UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

AT   LOS  ANGELES 


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SKETCIES 


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WITH  ORIGINAL  DESIGNS  BYDARLEY 


PHILADELPHIA, 

T.B.PETERSON  a  BROS. 


CHARCOAL  SKETCHES, 


BY   JOSEPH    C.   NEAL. 


•Mons'u.4  warm,  Miss  ;  and  dancing  makes  it  mons'usser." — Page  110. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
T.    B.    PETERSON. 


CHARCOAL   SKETCHES 


OH, 


SCENES    IN   A  METROPOLIS. 


BY  JOSEPH   C.,NEAL, 

OP  "PETER  PLODDT,"  " MISFORTUNES  OP  PETER  PABEP," 


3llinstrati0ns. 


P  I)  H  a  LI  c  I  p  I)  i  a : 

T.    B.    PETERSON    AND    BROTHERS, 

306    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846,  by 
CAREY  AND  HART, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District 
of  Pennsylvania. 

COliLINS,  PRINTER. 


T6 


INTRODUCTION. 


AMONG  the  publications  of  late  years,  we  have 
Pencil  Sketches,  Crayon  Sketches,  Pen  and  Ink 
Drawings,  Pencillings  by  the  Way,  and  other 
works  deriving  their  titles  from  the  pursuits  of  the 
draughtsman.  To  avoid  plagiarism,  therefore, 
while  following  the  fashion,  this  humble  volume 
is  presented  bearing  the  unambitious  name  which 
heads  its  pages.  There  is  certainly  nothing  very 
imposing  about  it ;  but  charcoal  has  its  uses  and 
its  capabilities ;  and  the  sketcher  is  content  if  he 
has  been  able  even  to  approach  any  of  the  broaa 
effects  which  can  b'5  dashed  off  by  the  aid  of  an 
article  so  homely. 

A  number  of  the  trifles  contained  in  the  volume 
are  familiar  to  newspaper  readers,  under  the  gene- 
ral title  of  "  City  Worthies."  Although  mere  fancy 
portraits,  farcical  in  their  nature,  and  written  for  a 
temporary  purpose,  they  were  received  with  such 
unexpected  favour  as  to  induce  their  publication 
in  the  present  form.  The  collection  also  comprises 


418587 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

other  sketches  which  at  least  have  novelty  on  then 
side,  if  "  worthy"  of  no  other  credit. 

But  whether  the  letter-press  be  amusing  or  not, 
the  illustrations  by  Johnston  are  replete  with  hu- 
mour and  graphic  skill.  They  who  yawn  in  the 
perusal  of  our  pages,  can  therefore  turn  for  refresh- 
ment to  the  comicalities  of  the  etcher,  and  excuse 
the  dulness  perpetrated  by  the  pen,  in  laughing 
over  the  quaint  characteristics  embodied  by  our 
American  Cruikshank.  - 

Trusting  that  some  portion  of  the  Charcoal 
Sketches  may  be  well  received,  they  are  now  com- 
mitted to  the  reader.  If  he  will  not  smile,  the 
writer  has  laboured  in  vain ;  and  if  he  frown, 
there  is  no  remedy  but  submission.  To  avoid  mis- 
take, however,  and  to  borrow  a  hint  from  the 
familiar  story  of  the  painter  who  was  advised  to 
place  beneath  his  pictures  the  name  of  the  object 
he  wished  to  represent,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
state  that  these  productions  involve  a  design  upon 
the  risibles  of  the  "  pensive  public."  Should  there 
be  a  failure  in  our  deep  intent,  it  adds  another  to 
the  long  list  of  cases  wherein  the  will  has  been 
unable  to  achieve  the  deed. 


CONTENTS. 


PAT,  a 

OLYMPUS  PUMP;  OR,  THE  POETIC  TEMPERAMENT        -  7 

'Tis  ONLY  MY  HUSBAND           .....  16 

ORSON  DABBS,  THE  HITTITE 31 

ROCKY  SMALT;  OR,  THE  DANGERS  OF  IMITATION     -  39 
UNDEVELOPED  GENIUS.     A  PASSAGE  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  P. 

PlLGARLICK    PlGWIGGEN,    ESQ.    -            -            -            -  50 

THE    BEST-NATURED    MAN    IN    THE    WORLD       -            -  60 

A  PAIR  OF  SLIPPERS;  OR,  FALLING  WEATHER         -  70 

INDECISION. — DUBERLY    DOUBTINGTON,  THE   MAN   WHO 

COULDN'T  MAKE  UP  HIS  MIND  79 

DILLY  JONES;  OR,  THE  PROGRESS  OF  IMPROVEMENT  93 

THE  FLESHY  ONE 100 

GARDEN  THEATRICALS      -        -        -        -        -        -  114 

PETER  BRUSH,  THE  GREAT  USED  Up  -        -        -        -  130 

Music  MAD  ;  OR,  ^E  MELOMANIAC         ...  142 

RIPTON  EUMSEY;  A  TALE  OF  THE  WATERS        -        -  155 

A    WHOLE-SOULED  FELLOW  ;    OR,  THE   DECLINE  AND  FALL 

OF   TlfPLETON   TlPPS 163 

GAMALIEL  GAMBRIL;  OR,  DOMESTIC  UNEASINESS      -  183 

THE   CROOKED   DISCIPLE  ;  OR,  THE  PRIDE  OF  MUSCLE  194 

FVDGET  FYXINGTON         ......  307 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAOH 
Clvmpus  Pump fating  title-page. 

The  Best-natured  Man  in  the  World 66 

The  Fleshy  One 110 

Ripton  Runisev. 158 


CHARCOAL   SKETCHES. 


OLYMPUS   PUMP; 
OR,   THE    POETIC    TEMPERAMENT. 

IT  is  said  that  poetry  is  on  the  decline,  and  that  as  man 
Burrounds  himself  with  artificial  comforts,  and  devotes 
his  energies  to  purposes  of  practical  utility,  the  sphere  of 
imagination  becomes  circumscribed,  and  the  worship  of 
the  Muses  is  neglected.  We  are  somewhat  disposed  to 
assent  to  this  conclusion ;  the  more  from  having  remarked 
the  fact  that  the  true  poetic  temperament  is  not  so  fre- 
quently met  with  as  it  was  a  few  years  since,  and  that 
the  outward  marks  of  genius  daily  become  more  rare. 
Where  the  indications  no  longer  exist,  or  where  they 
gradually  disappear,  it  is  but  fair  to  conclude  that  the 
thing  itself  is  perishing.  There  are,  it  is  true,  many  de- 
lightful versifiers  at  the  present  moment,  but  we  fear  that 
though  they  display  partial  evidences  of  inspiration  upon 
paper,  the  scintillations  are  deceptive.  Their  conduct 
seldom  exhibits  sufficient  proof  that  they  are  touched 
with  the  celestial  fire,  to  justify  the  public  in  regarding 
them  as  the  genuine  article.  Judging  from  the  rules 
formerly  considered  absolute  upon  this  point,  it  is  alto- 
gether preposterous  for  your  happy,  well-behaved,  well- 
dressed,  smoothly-shaved  gentleman,  who  pays  his  debts, 


CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

and  submits  quietly  to  the  laws  framed  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  uninspired  part  of  society,  to  arrogate  to 
himself  a  place  in  the  first  rank  of  the  sons  of  genius, 
whatever  may  be  his  merits  with  the  gray  goose  quill. 
There  is  something  defective  about  him.  The  divine 
afflatus  has  been  denied,  and  though  he  may  flap  his 
wings,  and  soar  as  high  as  the  house-tops,  no  one  can 
think  him  capable  of  cleaving  the  clouds,  and  of  playing 
hide  and  seek  among  the  stars.  Even  if  he  were  to  do 
so,  the  spectator  would  either  believe  that  his  eyes  de- 
ceived him,  or  that  the  successful  flight  was  accidental, 
and  owing  rather  to  a  temporary  density  of  the  atmo- 
sphere than  to  a  strength  of  pinion. 

The  true  poetic  temperament  of  the  old  school  is  a  gift 
as  fatal,  as  that  of  being  able  to  sing  a  good  song  is  to  a 
youth  with  whom  the  exercise  of  the  vocal  organ  is  no\ 
a  profession.  It  was — and  to  a  certain  extent  is — an 
axiom,  that  an  analogy  almost  perfect  exists  between  the 
poet  and  the  dolphin.  To  exhibit  their  beautiful  hues  they 
must  both  be  on  the  broad  road  to  destruction.  We  are 
fully  aware  that  it  has  been  supposed  by  sceptical  spirits 
that  there  is  some  confusion  of  cause  and  effect  in  arriv- 
ing at  this  conclusion, — that  there  is  no  sufficient  reason 
that  genius  should  be  a  bad  citizen.  The  existence  of 
an  irresistible  impulse  to  break  the  shackles  of  conven- 
tionalism has  been  doubted  by  the  heterodox.  They  de- 
clare that  a  disposition  to  do  so  is  felt  by  most  men,  and 
that  aberrations  are  indulged  in,  partly  from  a  principle 
of  imitation,  because  certain  shining  lights  have  thought 
proper  to  render  themselves  as  conspicuous  for  their  ec- 
centricities as  for  their  genius,  and  chiefly  from  a  belief 
that  society  expects  such  wanderings,  and  regards  them 
with  lenity.  But  analysis  is  not  our  forte,  even  if  we 
were  disposed  to  cavil  at  such  convenient  things  as 


OLYMPUS    PUMP.  9 

lumping  generalities.  Your  inquiring  philosophers  are 
troublesome  fellows,  and*  while  we  content  ourselves 
with  the  bare  fact,  let  them  seek  rerum  cognoscere 
causas. 

It  is,  however,  a  satisfaction  to  know  that  the  full- 
blooded  merino  is  not  yet  quite  extinct.  Olympus  Pump 
is  the  personification  of  the  temperament  of  which  we 
speak.  Had  there  been  a  little  less  of  the  divine  essence 
of  poesy  mingled  with  the  clay  of  which  he  is  composed, 
it  would  have  been  better  for  him.  The  crockery  of  his 
moral  constitution  would  have  been  the  more  adapted  to 
the  household  uses  of  this  kitchen  world.  But  Pump 
delights  in  being  the  pure  porcelain,  and  would  scorn  the 
admixture  of  that  base  alloy,  which,  while  it  might  render 
him  more  useful,  would  diminish  his  ornamental  quali- 
ties. He  proudly  feels  that  he  was  intended  to  be  a 
mantel  embellishment  to  bear  bouquets,  not  a  mete 
utensil  for  the  scullery  ;  and  that  he  is  not  now  fulfilling 
his  destiny,  arises  solely  from  the  envy  and  uncharitable- 
ness  of  those  gross  and  malignant  spirits  with  which  the 
world  abounds.  Occupied  continually  in  his  mental 
laboratory,  fabricating  articles  which  he  finds  unsaleable, 
and  sometimes  stimulating  his  faculties  with  draughts 
of  Scheidam,  the  "  true  Hippocrene,"  he  slips  from 
station  to  station,  like  a  child  tumbling  down  stairs  ;  and 
now,  having  arrived  at  the  lowest  round  of  fortune's  lad- 
der, he  believes  it  was  envy  that  tugged  at  his  coat  tails, 
and  caused  his  descent,  and  that  the  human  race  are  a 
vast  band  of  conspirators.  There  are  no  Maecenases  in 
these  modern  times  to  help  those  who  will  not  help  them- 
selves ;  no,  not  even  a  Capel  Lofft,  to  cheer  the  Pumps 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  No  kindly  arm  toils  at  the 
handle :  and  if  he  flows,  each  Pump  must  pump  fo^ 
himself.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  conclusion  at  which  Olym 


10  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

pus  has  arrived,  and  he  has  melancholy  reasons  for  be- 
lieving that  in  his  instance  he  is  correct.  Thus,  while 
Ins  mind  is  clothing  its  varied  fancies  in  rich  attire,  and 
his  exulting  spirit  is  gambolling  and  luxuriating  in  the 
clover  and  timothy  of  imagination's  wide  domain,  or 
drinking  fairy  Champagne  and  eating  canvass-back  ducks 
in  air-drawn  palaces,  his  outward  man  is  too  frequently 
enduring  the  sad  reverse  of  these  unreal  delights.  He 
may  often  be  seen,  when  the  weather  is  cold,  leaning  his 
back  against  a  post  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  street ;  his 
hands,  for  lack  of  coin,  filling  his, roomy  pockets;  his 
curious  toes  peeping  out  at  crannies  to  see  the  world ; 
an  indulgence  extended  to  them  by  few  but  the  Pump 
family ;  and  his  elbows  and  knees  following  the  example 
of  his  lower  extremities.  Distress,  deep  thought,  or 
some  other  potent  cause  has  transplanted  the  roses  from 
the  garden  of  his  cheek  to  that  no  longer  sterile  promon- 
tory his  nose,  while  his  chin  shows  just  such  a  stubble 
as  would  be  invaluable  for  the  polishing  brush  of  a  boot- 
black. 

But  luckily  the  poetic  temperament  has  its  compensa- 
tions. When  not  too  much  depressed,  Olympus  Pump  has 
a  world  of  his  own  within  his  cranium ;  a  world  which 
ehould  be  a  model  for  that  without, — a  world  in  which 
there  is  nothing  to  do,  and  every  thing  to  get  for  the  ask- 
ing. If  in  his  periods  of  intellectual  abstraction,  the 
external  atmosphere  should  nip  his  frame,  the  high  price 
of  coal  affects  him  not.  In  the  palace  of  the  mind,  fuel 
costs  nothing,  and  he  can  there  toast  himself  brown  free 
of  expense.  Does  he  desire  a  tea-party  ? — the  guests 
are  in  his  noddle  at  his  call,  willing  to  stay,  or  ready  to 
depart,  at  his  command,  without  "  standing  on  the  order 
of  their  going ;"  and  the  imagined  tables  groan  with 
viands  which  wealth  might  exhaust  itself  to  procure. 


OLYMPUS    PUMP.  11 

Does  he  require  sweet  music? — the  poetic  fancy  can 
perform  an  opera,  or  manufacture  hosts  of  Frank  John- 
sons in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye ;  and  the  celestial  crea- 
tures, who  waltz  and  galope  in  the  spacious  salons  of  his 
brain-pan,  are  endowed  with  loveliness  which  reality 
can  never  parallel. 

With  such  advantages,  Pump,  much  as  he  grumbles, 
would  not  exchange  the  coruscations  of  his  genius,  which 
flickerpnd  flare  like  the  aurora  borealis,  for  a  "  whole 
wilderness"  of  comfort,  if  it  were  necessary  that  he  should 
entertain  dull,  plodding  thoughts,  and  make  himself 
"  generally  useful."  Can  he  not,  while  he  warms  his 
fingers  at  the  fire  of  imagination,  darn  his  stockings  and 
patch  his  clothes  with  the  needle  of  his  wit ;  wash  his 
linen  and  his  countenance  in  the  waters  of  Helicon  ;  and, 
sitting  on  the  peak  of  Parnassus,  devour  imaginary  fried 
oysters  with  Apollo  and  the  Muses  ? 

But  either  "  wool  gathering"  is  not  very  profitable,  or 
else  the  envy  of  which  Pump  complains  is  stronger 
than  ever  ;  for  not  long  since,  after  much  poetic  idleness, 
and  a  protracted  frolic,  he  was  seen,  in  the  witching  time 
of  night,  sitting  on  a  stall  in  the  new  market  house,  for 
the  very  sufficient  reason  that  he  did  not  exactly  know 
where  else  lodging  proportioned  to  the  state  of  his  fiscai 
department  could  be  found.  He  spoke : 

"  How  blue  !  how  darkly,  deeply,  beautifully  blue  ! — 
not  me  myself,  but  the  expanse  of  ether.  The  stars 
wink  through  the  curtain  of  the  air,  like  a  fond  mother 
to  her  drowsy  child,  as  much  as  to  say  hush-a-by-baby 
to  a  wearied  world.  In  the  moon's  mild  rays  even  the 
crags  of  care  like  sweet  rock-candy  shine.  Night  is  a 
Carthagenian  Hannibal  to  sorrow,  melting  its  Alpine 
steeps,  whilst  buried  hope  pops  up  revived  and  cracks 
UP  rosy  shins.  Day  may  serve  to  light  sordid  man  to 


12  CHARCOAI    SKETCHES. 

his  labours ;  it  may  be  serviceable  to  let  calabashes  and 
squashes  see  how  to  grow  ;  but  the  poetic  soul  sparkles 
beneath  the  stars.  Genius  never  feels  its  oats  until 
after  sunset ;  twilight  applies  the  spanner  to  the  fireplug 
of  fancy  to  give  its  bubbling  fountains  way ;  and  mid- 
night lifts  the  sluices  for  the  cataracts  of  the  heart,  and 
cries,  «  Pass  on  the  water  !'  Yes,  and  economically  con- 
sidered, night  is  this  world's  Spanish  cloak  ;  for  no  mat- 
ter how  dilapidated  or  festooned  one's  apparel  *ay  be, 
the  loops  and  windows  cannot  be  discovered,  and  we 
look  as  elegant  and  as  beautiful  as  get  out.  Ah  !"  con- 
tinued  Pump,  as  he  gracefully  reclined  upon  the  stall, 
"  it's  really  astonishing  how  rich  I  am  in  the  idea  line 
to-night.  But  it's  no  use.  I've  got  no  pencil — not  even 
a  piece  of  chalk  to  write  'em  on  my  hat  for  my  next 
poem.  It's  a  great  pity  ideas  are  so  much  of  the  soap- 
bubble  order,  that  you  can't  tie  'em  up  in  a  pocket  hand- 
kerchief, like  a  half  peck  of  potatoes,  or  string  'em  on  a 
stick  like  catfish.  I  often  have  the  most  beautiful  notions 
scampering  through  my  head  with  the  grace,  but  alas ! 
the  swiftness  too,  of  kittens — especially  just  before  I  get 
asleep — but  they're  all  lost  for  the  want  of  a  trap ;  an 
intellectual  figgery  four.  I  wish  we  could  find  out  the 
way  of  sprinkling  salt  on  their  tails,  and  make  'em  wait 
till  we  want  to  use  'em.  Why  can't  some  of  the  meaner 
souls  invent  an  idea  catcher  for  the  use  of  genius  ?  I'm 
sure  they'd  find  it  profitable,  for  I  wouldn't  mind  owing 
a  man  twenty  dollars  for  one  myself.  Oh,  for  an  idea 
catcher !" 

Owen  Glendower  failed  in  calling  up  spirits,  but  the 
eloquence  of  Pump  was  more  efficacious.  In  the  heavy 
shadow  of  a  neighbouring  pile  of  goods  a  dark  mass  ap- 
peared to  detach  itself,  as  if  a  portion  of  the  gloom  had 
suddenly  become  animated.  It  stepped  forth  in  the 


OLYMPUS    PUMP.  13 

likeness  of  a  man,  mysteriously  wrapped  up.  whose  eyes 
glared  fiercely,  and  with  a  sinister  aspect,  as  he  advanced 
towards  the  poet.  Pump  stared  in  silence — he  felt  like 
an  idea,  and  as  if  the  catcher  were  close  at  hand,  ready  to 
pounce  upon  it.  "  Catching  the  idea"  for  once  seemed  a 
disagreeable  operation.  The  parties  confronted  each  other 
for  a  time  without  saying  a  word.  A  cloud  hurrying 
across  the  moon  lent  additional  terror  to  the  scene,  and 
the  unknown,  to  Pump's  astonished  vision,  appeared  to 
swell  to  a  supernatural  size.  The  stranger,  at  last, 
waved  his  arm,  hemmed  thrice,  and  in  the  deep,  deci- 
sive tones  of  one  used  to  command,  said : 

"  It's  not  a  new  case — it's  been  decided  frequent. 
It's  clearly  agin  the  ordination  made  and  j  ovided,  and 
it's  likewise  agin  the  act" — 

"Ah  me!  what  act?"  ejaculated  the  astonished 
Pump. 

"  To  fetch  yourself  to  anchor  on  the  stalls.  It  isn't 
what  the  law  considers  pooty  behaviour,  and  no  gem- 
man  would  be  cotched  at  it.  To  put  the  case,  now, 
would  it  be  genteel  for  a  man  to  set  on  the  table  at 
dinner-time  ?  Loafing  on  the  stalls  is  jist  as  bad  as 
rolling  among  the  dishes." 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  I'm  immersed  in  poetic  conceptions  ; 
I'm  holding  sweet  communion  with  my  own  desolate 
affections.  Leave  me,  leave  me  to  the  luxuriance  of 
imagination ;  suffer  me,  as  it  were,  to  stray  through  the 
glittering  realms  of  fancy." 

"  What !  on  a  mutton  butcher's  shambles  ?  Bless  you, 
I  can't  think  of  it  for  a  moment.  My  notions  is  rigid, 
and  if  I  was  to  find  my  own  daddy  here,  I'd  rouse  him 
out.  You  must  tortle  off,  as  fast  as  you  kin".  If  your 
tongue  wasn't  so  thick,  I'd  say  you  must  mosey ;  but 
moseying  is  only  to  be  done  when  a  gemman's  halfshot ; 


14  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

when  they're  gone  cases,  we  don't  expect  'em  to  do 
more  nor  tortle." 

"  Excuse  me — I  don't  see  that  it  makes  much  differ- 
ence to  you  whether  I  am  qualified  to  mosey,  or  am 
only  capable  of  the  more  dignified  method  of  locomotion, 
which  you  call  to  tortle.  But  don't  disturb  me.  The 
moon  has  resuscitated  my  fancy,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  would 
shortly  compose  an  ode  to  Nox  and  Erebus." 

"  Compose  what's  owed  to  Messrs.  Nox  and  Erebus  ! 
Yes,  I  thought  you  were  one  of  that  sort  what  makes 
compositions  when  they  owe  any  thing.  Precious  little 
Nox  and  Erebus  will  get  out  of  you.  But  come,  hop 
the  twig!"  So  saying,  the  relentless  guardian  of  the 
night  seized  the  hapless  Pump  by  the  collar,  and  began  to 
remove  him. 

"  Now,  don't — don't  be  gross  and  muscular.  I'm  an 
oppressed  man,  with  no  friend  but  my  coat,  and  both 
my  coat  and  myself  are  remarkable  for  fragility  of  con- 
stitution. We  are  free  souls,  vibrating  on  the  breath  of 
the  circumambient  atmosphere,  and  by  long  companion- 
ship, our  sympathies  are  so  perfect,  that  if  you  pull  hard 
you'll  produce  a  pair  of  catastrophes  ;  while  you  tear  the 
one,  you'll  discombobberate  the  nerves  of  the  other." 

"  Well,  I'm  be  blamed !"  said  the  watch,  recoiling, 
"  did  you  ever  hear  the  likes  of  that  ?  Why,  aunty,  ain't 
you  a  noncompusser  ?" 

"  I'm  a  poet,  and  it's  my  fate  not  to  be  understood 
either  by  the  world  in  general,  or  by  Charleys  in  parti- 
cular. The  one  knocks  us  down,  and  the  others 
take  us  up.  Between  the  two,  we  are  knocked  about 
like  a  ball,  until  we  become  unravelled,  and  perish." 

"I  don't  want  to  play  shinney  with  you,  no  how — 
why  don't  you  go  home  ?" 

"  The  bottle  is  empty  ;  the  bill  unpaid  ;  landlords  are 


OLYMPUS    PUMP.  15 

vulgar  realities — mere  matters  of  fact- — and  very  apt  to 
vituperate." 

"  Well,  it's  easy  enough  to  work,  get  money,  fill  the 
bottle,  and  pay  the  gemman  what  you  owes  him." 

"  I  tell  you  again  you  can't  understand  the  poetic  soul. 
It  cannot  endure  the  scorn  and  contumelies  of  the  earthly. 
It  cannot  submit  to  toil  under  a  taskmaster,  and  when 
weaving  silver  tissues  of  romance,  be  told  to  jump  about 
spry  and  'tend  the  shop.  Nor,  when  it  meets  congenial 
spirits,  can  it  leave  the  festive  board,  because  the  door  is 
to  be  locked  at  ten  o'clock,  and  there  isn't  any  dead  latch 
to  it.  The  delicate  excesses  into  which  it  leads  us,  to 
repair  the  exhaustion  of  hard  thought,  compel  us  to 
sojourn  long  in  bed,  and  even  that  is  registered  by  fip- 
and-levy  boobies  as  a  sin.  At  the  present  moment,  I  am 
falling  a  victim  to  these  manifold  oppressions  of  the  un- 
intellectual." 

"  Under  the  circumstances,  then,  what  do  you  say  to 
being  tuck  up?" 

"  Is  it  optional  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  ;  but  it's  fineable,  and  that's  as  good." 

"  Then  I  decline  the  honour." 

"  No,  you  don't.  I  only  axed  out  of  manners.  You 
must  rise  up,  William  Riley,  and  come  along  with  me, 
as  the  song  says." 

"  I  suppose  I  must,  whether  I  like  the  figure  or  not. 
Alack,  and  alas  for  the  poetic  temperament !  Must  the 
^Eolian  harp  of  genius  be  so  rudely  swept  by  a  Charley — 
must  that  harp,  as  I  may  say,  play  mere  banjo  jigs,  when 
it  should  only  respond  in  Lydian  measures  to  the  south- 
ern breezes  of  palpitating  imagination?  To  what  base 
uses" — 

"  Hurrah  !    Keep  a  toddling — pull  foot  and  away  !" 

Olympus  obeyed  ;   for  who  can  control  his  fate  ? 


(16) 


'TIS  ONLY  M¥  HUSBAND.* 


"  GOODNESS,  Mrs.  Pumpilion,  it's  a  gentleman's  voice, 
and  me  such  a  figure  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Amanda  Corn- 
top,  who  had  just  arrived  in  town  to  visit  her  friend, 
Mrs.  Pumpilion,  whom  she  had  not  seen  since  her  mar- 
riage. 

"  Don't  disturb  yourself,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Pumpilion, 
quietly,  "  it's  nobody — 'tis  only  my  husband.  He'll 
not  come  in  ;  but  if  he  does,  'tis  only  my  husband." 

So  Miss  Amanda  Corntop  was  comforted,  and  her 
agitated  arrangements  before  the  glass  being  more  coolly 
completed,  she  resumed  her  seat  and  the  interrupted  con- 
versation. Although,  as  a  spinster,  she  had  a  laudable 
and  natural  unwillingness  to  be  seen  by  any  of  the  mas- 
culine gender  in  that  condition  so  graphically  described 
as  "  such  a  figure,"  yet  there  are  degrees  in  this  unwill- 
ingness. It  is  by  no  means  so  painful  to  be  caught  a 
figure  by  a  married  man  as  it  is  to  be  surprised  by  a 
youthful  bachelor;  and,  if  the  former  be  of  that  peculiar 
class  known  as  "  only  my  husband,"  his  unexpected 
arrival  is  of  very  little  Consequence.  He  can  never 
more,  "like  an  eagle  in  a  dove  cote,  flutter  the  Volsces  " 

*  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  state  that  the  mere  conclusion  of  the 
above  sketch,  hastily  thrown  off  by  the  same  pen,  appeared  in  one 
of  our  periodicals  a  few  years  ago,  and,  much  mutilated  and  dis- 
figured, has  since  been  republished  in  the  newspapers,  with  an  erro- 
neous credit,  and  under  a  different  name. 


'TIS     ONLY    MY    HUSBAND.  17 

It  is,  therefore,  evident  that  there  exists  a  material  differ- 
ence between  "  my  husband"  and  "  only  my  husband;" 
a  difference  not  easily  expressed,  though  perfectly  un- 
derstood ;  and  it  was  that  understanding  which  restored 
Miss  Amanda  Corntop  to  her  pristine  tranquillity. 

"Oh!"  said  Miss  Corntop,  when  she  heard  that  the 
voice  in  question  was  that  of  Mr.  Pumpilion.  "Ah !' 
added  Miss  Corntop,  intelligently  and  composedly,  when 
she  understood  that  Pumpilion  was  "  only  my  hus- 
band." She  had  not  paid  much  attention  to  philology 
but  she  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  value  of  that  diminu- 
tive prefix  "  only." 

"  I  told  you  he  would  not  come  in,  for  he  knew  there 
was  some  one  here,"  continued  Mrs.  Pumpilion,  as  the 
spiritless  footsteps  of  "  only  my  husband"  passed  the 
door,  and  slowly  plodded  up  stairs.  He  neither  came 
in,  nor  did  he  hum,  whistle,  or  bound  three  steps  at  a 
time;  "only  my  husband"  never  does.  He  is  simply  a 
transportation  line  ;  he  conveys  himself  from  place  to 
place  according  to  order,  and  indulges  not  in  episodes 
and  embellishments. 

Poor  Pedrigo  Pumpilion  !  Have  all  thy  glories  shrunk 
to  this  little  measure  ?  Only  my  husband !  Does  that 
appellation  circumscribe  him  who  once  found  three 
chairs  barely  sufficient  to  accommodate  his  frame,  and 
who,  in  promenading,  never  skulked  to  the  curb  or 
hugged  the  wall,  but,  like  a  man  who  justly  appreciated 
himself,  took  the  very  middle  of  the  trottoir,  and  kept  it  ? 

The  amiable,  but  now  defunct,  Mrs.  Anguish  was 
never  sure  that  she  was  perfectly  well,  until  she  had 
shaken  her  pretty  head  to  ascertain  if  some  disorder  were 
not  lying  in  ambush,  and  to  discover  whether  a  head- 
ache were  not  latent  there,  which,  if  not  nipped  in  the 
bud,  might  be  suddenly  and  inconveniently  brought  into 
132 


18  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

action.  It  is  not  too  much  to  infer  that  the  same  reason- 
ing, which  applies  to  headaches  and  to  the  physical  con- 
stitution, may  be  of  equal  force  in  reference  to  the  moral 
organization.  Headaches  being  latent,  it  is  natural  to 
suppose  that  the  disposition  to  be  "  only  my  husband'* 
may  likewise  be  latent,  even  in  him  who  is  now  as  fierce 
and  as  uncontrollable  as  a  volcano ;  while  the  desire  to  be 
"  head  of  the  bureau"  may  slumber  in  the  mildest  of  the 
fair.  It  is  by  circumstance  alone  that  talent  is  developed  ; 
the  razor  itself  requires  extraneous  aid  to  bring  it  to  an 
edge  ;  and  the  tact  to  give  direction,  as  well  as  the  faci- 
lity to  obey,  wait  to  be  elicited  by  events.  Both  grey- 
mareism  and  Jerry-Sneakery  are  sometimes  latent,  and 
like  the  derangements  of  Mrs.  Anguish's  caput,  only 
want  shaking  to  manifest  themselves.  If  some  are  born 
to  command,  others  must  certainly  have  a  genius  for  sub- 
mission— we  term  it  a  genius,  submission  being  in  many 
cases  rather  a  difficult  thing. 

That  this  division  of  qualities  is  full  of  wisdom,  none 
can  deny.  It  requires  both  flint  and  steel  to  produce  a 
spark ;  both  powder  and  ball  to  do  execution ;  and, 
though  the  Chinese  contrive  to  gobble  an  infinity  of  rice 
with  chopsticks,  yet  the  twofold  operation  of  knife  and 
fork  conduces  much  more  to  the  comfort  of  a  dinner. 
Authority  and  obedience  are  the  knife  and  fork  of  this 
extensive  banquet,  the  world ;  they  are  the  true  divide 
et  impcra ;  that  which  is  sliced  off  by  the  one  is  har- 
pooned by  the  bther. 

In  this  distribution,  however,  nature,  when  the  "  la- 
tents"  are  made  apparent,  very  frequently  seems  to  act 
with  caprice.  It  is  by  no  means  rare  to  find  in  the  form 
of  a  man,  a  timid,  retiring,  feminine  disposition,  which, 
in  the  rough  encounters  of  existence,  gives  way  at  once, 
as  if  like  woman,  "born  to  be  controlled."  The  propor- 


'TIS    ONLY    MY    HUSBAND.  19 

lions  of  a  Hercules,  valenced  with  the  whiskers  of  a  tiger, 
often  cover  a  heart  with  no  more  of  energy  and  boldness 
in  its  pulsations  than  the  little  palpitating  affair  which 
throbs  in  the  bosom  of  a  maiden  of  bashful  fifteen ; 
while  many  a  lady  fair,  before  marriage — the  latent 
condition — all  softness  and  graceful  humility,  bears 
within  her  breast  the  fiery  resolution  and  the  indo- 
mitable will  of  an  Alexander,  a  Hannibal,  or  a  Doctor 
Francia.  The  temperament  which,  had  she  been  a 
man,  would,  in  an  extended  field,  have  made  her  a  con- 
queror of  nations,  or,  in  a  more  contracted  one,  a  dis- 
tinguished thief-catching  police  officer,  by  being  lodged 
in  a  female  frame  renders  her  a  Xantippe — a  Napoleon 
of  the  fireside,  and  pens  her  hapless  mate,  like  a  con- 
quered king,  a  spiritless  captive  in  his  own  chimney 
corner. 

But  it  is  plain  to  be  seen  that  this  apparent  confusion 
lies  only  in  the  distribution.  There  are  souls  enough  of 
all  kinds  in  the  world,  but  they  do  not  always  seem  pro- 
perly fitted  with  bodies  ;  and  thus  a  corporal  construc- 
tion may  run  the  course  of  life  actuated  by  a  spirit  in 
every  respect  opposed  to  its  capabilities ;  as  at  tke 
breaking  up  of  a  crowded  soiree,  a  little  head  waggles 
home  with  an  immense  castor,  while  a  pumpkin  pate 
sallies  forth  surmounted  by  a  thimble ;  which,  we  take 
it,  is  the  only  philosophical  theory  which  at  all  accounts 
for  the  frequent  acting  out  of  character  with  which 
society  is  replete. 

Hence  arises  the  situation  of  affairs  with  the  Pumpi- 
lions.  Pedrigo  Pumpilion  has  the  soul  which  legitimate- 
ly appertains  to  his  beloved  Seraphina  Serena,  while 
Seraphina  Serena  Pumpilion  has  that  which  should 
animate  her  Pedrigo.  But,  not  being  profound  in  thei- 
researches,  they  are  probably  not  aware  of  the  fact,  and 


20  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

perhaps  would  not  know  their  own  souls  if  they  were  to 
meet  them  in  the  street ;  although,  in  all  likelihood,  it 
was  a  mysterious  sympathy — a  yearning  of  each  physi- 
cal individuality  to  be  near  so  important  a  part  of  itself, 
which  brought  this  worthy  pair  together. 

Be  that,  however,  as  it  may,  it  is  an  incontrovertible 
fact  that,  before  they  did  come  together,  Pedrigo  Pumpi- 
lion  thought  himself  quite  a  model  of  humanity ;  and 
piqued  himself  upon  possessing  much  more  of  the 
fo'rtiter  in  re  than  of  the  suaviter  in  modo — a  mistake, 
the  latter  quality  being  latent,  but  abundant.  He  dreamed 
that  he  was  brimming  with  valour,  and  fit,  not  only  to 
lead  squadrons  to  the  field,  but  likewise  to  remain  with 
them  when  they  were  there.  At  the  sound  of  drums  and 
trumpets,  he  perked  up  his  chin,  stuck  out  his  breast, 
straightened  his  vertebral  column,  and  believed  that  he, 
Pedrigo,  was  precisely  the  individual  to  storm  a  fortress 
at  the  head  of  a  forlorn  hope — a  greater  mistake.  But 
the  greatest  error  of  the  whole  troop  of  blunders  was  his 
making  a  Pumpilion  of  Miss  Seraphina  Serena  Dolce, 
with  the  decided  impression  that  he  was,  while  sharing 
hie  kingdom,  to  remain  supreme  in  authority.  Knowing 
nothing  of  the  theory  already  broached,  he  took  her  for 
a  feminine  feminality,  and  yielded  himself  a  victim  to 
sympathy  and  the  general  welfare.  Now,  in  this,  strict- 
ly considered,  Pedrigo  had  none  but  himself  to  blame ; 
he  had  seen  manifestations  of  her  spirit ;  the  latent  energy 
had  peeped  out  more  than  once ;  he  had  entered  unexpect- 
edly, before  being  installed  as  "  only  my  husband,"  and 
found  Miss  Seraphina  dancing  the  grand  rigadoon  on  a 
luckless  bonnet  which  did  not  suit  her  fancy, — a  species 
of  exercise  whereat  he  marvelled  ,  and  he  had  likewise 
witnessed  her  performance  of  the  remarkable  feat  of 
whirling  a  caf  which  had  scratched  her  hand,  across  the 


'TIS     ONLY    MY    HUSBAND.  21 

room  by  the  tail,  whereby  the  mirror  was  infinitesiraally 
divided  into  homoeopathic  doses,  and  whereby  pussy,  the 
patient,  was  most  allopath ically  phlebotomised  and  scari- 
fied. He  likewise  knew  that  her  musical  education  ter- 
minated in  an  operatic  crash,  the  lady  having  in  a  fit  of 
impatience  demolished  the  guitar  over  the  head  of  her 
teacher ;  but,  in  this  instance,  the  mitigating  plea  must 
be  allowed  that  it  was  done  because  the  instrument 
"  wouldn't  play  good,"  a  perversity  to  which  instru- 
ments, like  lessons  "  which  won't  learn,"  are  lament- 
ably liable. 

These  little  escapades,  however,  did  not  deter  Pum- 
pilion.  Confiding  in  his  own  talent  for  governing,  he 
liked  his  Seraphina  none  the  less  for  her  accidental  dis- 
plays of  energy,  and  smiled  to  think  how,  under  his 
administration,  his  reproving  frown  would  cast  oil  upon 
the  waves,  and  how,  as  he  repressed  her  irritability,  he 
would  develope  her  affections,  results  which  would  both 
save  the  crockery  and  increase  his  comforts. 

Of  the  Pumpilion  tactique  in  courtship  some  idea  may 
be  formed  from  the  following  conversation.  Pedrigo 
had  an  intimate  associate,  some  years  his  senior, — Mr. 
Michael  Mitts,  a  spare  and  emaciated  bachelor,  whose 
hawk  nose,  crookedly  set  on,  well  represented  the  eccen- 
tricity of  his  conclusions,  while  the  whistling  pucker  in 
which  he  generally  wore  his  mouth  betokened  acidity 
of  mind  rendered  sourer  by  indecision.  Mitts  was  ad- 
dicted to  observation,  and,  engaged  in  the  drawing  of 
inferences  and  in  generalizing  from  individual  instances, 
he  had,  like  many  others,  while  trimming  the  safety 
lamp  of  experience,  suffered  the  time  of  action  to  pass 
by  unimproved.  His  cautiousness  was  so  great  as  to 
trammel  up  his  "motive  power,"  and,  though  long  in- 
tending to  marry,  the  best  part  of  his  life  had  evaporated 


22  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

in  the  unproductive  employment  of  "looking  about." 
His  experience,  therefore,  had  stored  him  with  that 
species  of  wisdom  which  one  meets  with  in  theoretical 
wooers,  and  he  had  many  learned  saws  at  the  ser- 
vice of  those  who  were  bolder  than  himself,  and 
were  determined  to  enter  the  pale  through  which  he 
peeped. 

As  every  one  in  love  must  have  a  confidant,  Pedrigo 
had  selected  Mitts  for  that  office,  knowing  his  peculiar 
talent  for  giving  advice,  and  laying  down  rules  for  others 
to  act  upon. 

"  Pedrigo,"  said  Mitts,  as  he  flexed  his  nose  still  further 
from  the  right  line  of  conformity  to  the  usages  of  the 
world,  and  slacked  the  drawing  strings  of  his  mouth  to 
get  it  out  of  pucker ;  "  Pedrigo,  if  you  are  resolved  upon 
marrying  this  identical  individual — I  don't  see  the  use,  for 
mv  part,  of  being  in  a  hurry — better  look  about  a  while  . 
plenty  more  of  'em — but  if  you  are  resolved,  the  first 
thing  to  be  done  is  to  make  sure  of  her.  That's  unde- 
niable. The  only  difference  of  opinion,  if  you  won't 
wait  and  study  character — character's  a  noble  study — 
is  as  to  the  modus  operandi.  Now,  the  lady's  not  sure 
because  she's  committed;  just  the  contrary, — (hat's  the 
very  reason  she's  not  sure.  My  experience  shows  me 
that  when  it's  not  so  easy  to  retract,  the  attention, 
especially  that  of  young  women,  is  drawn  to  retrac- 
tion. Somebody  tells  of  a  bird  in  a  cage  that  grumbled 
about  being  cooped  up.  It's  clear  to  me  that  the  bird 
did  not  complain  so  much  because  it  was  in  the  cage,  as 
it  did  because  it  couldn't  get  out — that's  bird  nature,  and 
it's  human  nature  too." 

"  Ah,  indeed !"  responded  Pumpilion,  with  a  smile  of 
confidence  in  his  own  attractions,  mingled,  however, 
with  a  look  which  spoke  that  the  philosophy  of  Mitts, 


'TIS    ONLY    MY    HUSBAND.  23 

having  for  its  object  to  render  "  assurance  double  sure, 
did  not  pass  altogether  unheeded. 

"It's  a  fact,"  added  Mitts;  "don't  be  too  secure. 
Be  as  assiduous  and  as  mellifluous  as  you  please  before 
your  divinity  owns  the  soft  impeachment ;  but  afterwards 
comes  the  second  stage,  and  policy  commands  that  it 
should  be  one  rather  of  anxiety  to  her.  You  must 
every  now  and  then  play  Captain  Grand,  or  else  she 
may  perform  the  part  herself.  Take  offence  frequently ; 
vary  your  Romeo  scenes  with  an  occasional  touch  of  the 
snow  storm,  and  afterwards  excuse  yourself  on  the  score 
of  jealous  affection  ;  that  excuse  always  answers.  No- 
thing sharpens  love  like  a  smart  tiff  by  way  of  embellish- 
ment. The  sun  itself  would  not  look  so  bright  if  it  were 
not  for  the  intervention  of  night ;  and  these  little  agita- 
tions keep  her  mind  tremulous,  but  intent  upon  yourself. 
Don't  mothers  always  love  the  naughtiest  boys  best? 
haven't  the  worst  men  always  the  best  wives  ?  That 
exemplifies  the  principle ;  there's  nothing  like  a  little 
judicious  bother.  Miss  Seraphina  Serena  will  never 
change  her  mind  if  bothered  scientifically." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  may  it  not  be  rather  dangerous  ?" 
"  Dangerous  !  not  at  all ;  it's  regular  practice,  I  tell 
you.  A  few  cases  may  terminate  unluckily  ;  but  that  must 
be  charged  to  a  bungle  in  the  doctor.  Why,  properly 
managed,  a  courtship  may  be  continued,  like  a  nervous 
disease,  or  a  suit  at  law,  for  twenty  years,  and  be  as 
good  atr  the  close  as  it  was  at  the  beginning.  In  nine 
cases  out  of  ten,  you  must  either  perplex  or  be  perplexed ; 
so  you  had  better  take  the  sure  course,  and  play  the 
game  yourself.  Them's  my  sentiments,  Mr.  Speaker," 
and  Michael  Mitts  caused  his  lithe  proboscis  to  oscillate 
like  a  rudder,  as  he  concluded  his  oracular  speech,  and 
puckered  his  mouth  to  the  whistling  place  to  show  thai 


24  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

he  had  "  shut  up"  for  the  present.  He  then  walked 
slowly  away,  leaving  Pumpilion  with  a  "  new  wrin- 
kle." 

Seraphina  Serena,  being  both  fiery  and  coquettish 
withal,  Pumpilion,  under  the  direction  of  his  preceptor, 
tried  the  "  Mitts  system  of  wooing,"  and  although  it 
gave  rise  to  frequent  explosions,  yet  the  quarrels,  whether 
owing  to  the  correctness  of  the  system  or  not,  were  pro- 
ductive of  no  lasting  evil.  Michael  Mitts  twirled  his 
nose  and  twisted  his  mouth  in  triumph  at  the  wedding , 
and  set  it  down  as  an  axiom  that  there  is  nothing  like  a 
little  insecurity  for  rendering  parties  firm  in  completing 
a  bargain  ;  that,  had  it  not  been  for  practising  the  system, 
Pumpilion  might  have  become  alarmed  at  the  indications 
of  the  "latent  spirit;"  and  that,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
practice  of  the  system,  Seraphina's  fancy  might  have 
strayed. 

"  I'm  an  experimenter  in  mental  operations,  and  there's 
no  lack  of  subjects,"  said  Mitts  to  himself;  "  one  fact 
being  established,  the  Pumpilions  now  present  a  new 
aspect." 

There  is,  however,  all  the  difference  in  the  world 
between  carrying  on  warfare  where  you  may  advance 
and  retire  at  pleasure,  and  in  prosecuting  it  in  situations 
which  admit  of  no  retreat.  Partisan  hostilities  are  one 
thing,  and  regular  warfare  is  another.  Pumpilion  was 
very  well  as  a  guerilla,  but  his  genius  in  that  respect 
was  unavailing  when  the  nature  of  the  campaigmdid  not 
admit  of  his  making  an  occasional  demonstration,  and  of 
evading  the  immediate  consequences  by  a  retreat.  In  a 
very  few  weeks,  he  was  reduced  to  the  ranks  as  "  only 
my  husband,"  and,  although  no  direct  order  of  the  day 
was  read  to  that  effect,  he  was  "  respected  accordingly." 
Before  that  retrograde  promotion  took  place,  Pedrigo 


'TIS    ONLY    MY    HUSBAND.  25 

Pumpilion  cultivated  his  hair,  and  encouraged  its  sneaking 
inclination  to  curl  until  it  woollied  up  quite  fiercely ;  but 
afterwards  his  locks  became  broken-heartedly  pendent, 
and  straight  with  the  weight  of  care,  while  his  whiskers 
hung  back  as  if  asking  counsel  and  comfort  from  his 
ears.  He  twiddled  his  thumbs  with  a  slow  rotary  motion 
as  he  sat,  and  he  carried  his  hands  clasped  behind  him 
as  he  walked,  thus  intimating  that  he  couldn't  help  it, 
and  that  he  didn't  mean  to  try.  For  the  same  reason, 
he  never  buttoned  his  coat,  and  wore  no  straps  to  the 
feet  of  his  trousers  ;  both  of  which  seemed  too  energeti- 
cally resolute  for  "  only  my  husband.'  Even  his  hat, 
as  it  sat  on  the  back  part  of  his  head,  looked  as  if  Mrs. 
Pumpilion  had  put  it  on  for  him,  (no  one  but  the  wearer 
can  put  on  a  hat  so  that  it  will  sit  naturally,)  and  as  if  he 
had  not  nerve  enough  even  to  shake  it  down  to  its  charac- 
teristic place  and  physiognomical  expression.  His  per- 
sonnel loudly  proclaimed  that  the  Mitts  method  in  matri- 
mony had  been  a  failure,  and  that  the  Queen  had  given 
the  King  a  check-mate.  Mrs.  Pumpilion  had  been 
triumphant  in  acting  upon  the  advice  of  her  friend,  the 
widow,  who,  having  the  advantage  of  Mitts  in  combining 
experience  with  theory,  understood  the  art  of  breaking 
husbands  a  merveille. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Margery  Daw,  "  you 
have  plenty  of  spirit ;  but  spirit  is  nothing  without  stead- 
iness and  perseverance.  In  the  establishment  of  author- 
ity and  in  the  assertion  of  one's  rights,  any  intermission 
before  success  is  complete  requires  us  to  begin  again. 
If  your  talent  leads  you  to  the  weeping  method  of  soft- 
ening your  husband's  heart,  you  will  find  that  if  you  give 
him  a  shower  now  and  a  shower  then,  he  will  harden  in 
the  intervals  between  the  rain ;  while  a  good  sullen  cry 
of  twenty-four  hours'  length  may  prevent  any  necessity 


26  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

for  another.  If,  on  the  contrary,  you  have  genius  for 
the  tempestuous,  continued  thunder  and  lightning  for  the 
same  length  of  time  is  irresistible.  Gentlemen  are  great 
swaggerers,  if  not  impressively  dealt  with  and  early 
taught  to  know  their  places.  They  are  much  like 
Frisk,"  continued  the  widow,  addressing  her  lap-dog. 
"  If  they  bark,  and  you  draw  back  frightened,  they  are 
sure  to  bite ;  stamp  your  foot,  and  they  soon  learn  to  run 
into  a  corner.  Don't  they,  Frisky  dear?" 

"  Ya-p !"  responded  the  dog :  and  Mrs.  Pumpilion, 
tired  of  control,  took  the  concurrent  advice. 

*  *  *  *  * 

"  To-morrow,"  said  Pumpilion,  carelessly  and  with 
an  of-course-ish  air,  as  he  returned  to  tea  from  a  stroll 
with  his  friend  Michael  Mitts,  who  had  just  been  urging 
upon  him  the  propriety  of  continuing  the  Mitts  method 
after  marriage,  "  to-morrow,  my  love,  I  leave  town  for 
a  week  to  try  a  little  trout  fishing  in  the  mountains." 

"Mr.  Pumpilion!"  ejaculated  the  lady,  in  an  awful 
tone,  as  she  suddenly  faced  him.  "  Fishing?" 

"  Y-e-e-yes,"  replied  Pumpilion,  somewhat  discom 
posed. 

"  Then  I  shall  go  with  you,  Mr.  Pumpilion,"  said 
the  lady,  as  she  emphatically  split  a  muffin. 

"  Quite  onpossible,"  returned  Pumpilion,  with  decisive 
stress  upon  the  first  syllable  ;  "  it's  a  buck  party,  if 
I  may  use  the  expression — a  buck  party  entirely ; — 
there's  Mike  Mitts,  funny  Joe  Mungoozle — son  of  old 
Mungoozle's, — Tommy  Titcomb,  and  myself.  We  intend 
having  a  rough  and  tumble  among  the'  hills  to  beneficial- 
ise  our  wholesomes,  as  funny  Joe  Mungoozle  has  it." 

"  Funny  Joe  Mungoozle  is  not  a  fit  companion  for  any 
married  man,  Mr.  Pumpilion ;  and  it's  easy  to  see,  by 
your  sliding  bacK  among  the  dissolute  friends  and  disso- 


'TIS    ONLY    MY    HUSBAND.  27 

lute  practices  of  your  bachelorship,  Mr.  Pumpilion — by 
your  wish  to  associate  with  sneering  and  depraved  Mun- 
goozles,  Mitts's,  and  Titcombs,  Mr.  Pumpilion,  that  the 
society  of  your  poor  wife  is  losing  its  attractions,"  and 
Mrs.  Pumpilion  sobbed  convulsively  at  the  thought. 

"  I  have  given  my  word  to  go  a  fishing,"  replied 
Pedrigo,  rather  ruefully,  "  and  a  fishing  I  must  go. 
What  would  Mungoozle  say? — why,  he  would  have  a 
song  about  it,  and  sing  it  at  the  '  free  and  easies.' " 

"  What  matter  ?  let  him  say — let  him  sing.  But  it's 
not  my  observations — it's  those  of  funny  Joe  Mungoozle 
that  you  care  for — the  affections  of  the  '  free  and  easy' 
carousers  that  you  are  afraid  of  losing." 

"Mungoozle  is  a  very  particular  friend  of  mine,  Sera- 
phina,"  replied  Pedrigo,  rather  nettled.  "  We're  going 
a  fishing — that's  flat !" 

"  Without  me  ?" 

"  Without  you, — it  being  a  buck  party,  without  excep 
tion." 

Mrs.  Pumpilion  gave  a  shriek,  and  falling  back,  threw 
out  her  arms  fitfully — the  tea-pot  went  by  the  board,  as 
she  made  the  tragic  movement. 

"  Wretched,  unhappy  woman  !"  gasped  Mrs.  Pumpi- 
lion, speaking  of  herself. 

Pedrigo  did  not  respond  to  the  declaration,  but  alter- 
nately eyed  the  fragments  of  the  tea-pot  and  the  un- 
touched muffin  which  remained  on  his  plate.  The  coup 
had  not  been  without  its  effect ;  but  still  he  faintly  whis- 
pered, "  Funny  Joe  Mungoozle,  and  going  a  fishing." 

"  It's  clear  you  wish  to  kill  me — to  break  my  heart,' 
muttered  the  lady  in  a  spasmodic  manner. 

"  'Pon  my  soul,  I  don't,— I'm  only  going  a  fishing." 

"  I  shall  go  distracted  !"  screamed  Mrs.  Pumpilion, 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  and  springing  to  her  feet 


28  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

in  such  a  way  as  to  upset  the  table,  and  ro..  its  contents 
into  Pedrigo's  lap,  who  scrambled  from  the  debris,  as 
his  wife,  with  the  air  of  the  Pythoness,  swept  rapidly 
round  the  room,  whirling  the  ornaments  to  the  floor,  and 
indulging  in  the  grand  rigadoon  upon  their  sad  remains. 

"  You  no  longer  love  me,  Pedrigo  ;  and  without  your 
love  what  is  life  ?  What  is  this,  or  this,  or  this,"  con- 
tinued she,  a  crash  following  every  word,  "  without  mu- 
tual affection  ? — Going  a  fishing  !" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  am,"  whined  Pumpilion.  "  Per- 
haps it  will  rain  to-morrow." 

Now  it  so  happened  that  there  were  no  clouds  visible 
on  the  occasion,  except  in  the  domestic  atmosphere;  but, 
the  rain  was  adroitly  thrown  in  as  a  white  flag,  indica- 
tive of  a  wish  to  open  a  negotiation  and  come  to  terms. 
Mrs.  Pumpilion,  however,  understood  the  art  of  war  bet- 
ter than  to  treat  with  rebels  with  arms  in  their  hands. 
Her  military  genius,  no  longer  "  latent,"  whispered  her 
to  persevere  until  she  obtained  a  surrender  at  discretion. 

"  Ah,  Pedrigo,  you  only  say  that  to  deceive  your 
heart-broken  wife.  You  intend  to  slip  away — you  and 
your  Mungoozles — to  pass  your  hours  in  roaring  ini- 
quity, instead  of  enj  eying  the  calm  sunshine  of  domestic 
peace,  and  the  gentle  delights  of  fireside  felicity.  They 
are  too  tame,  too  flat,  too  insipid  for  a  depraved  taste. 
ThatI  should  ever  live  to  see  the  day  !"  and  she  relapsed 
into  the  intense  style  by  way  of  a  specimen  of  calm  ae- 
light. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pumpilion  retired  for  the  night  at  an 
early  hour ;  but  until  the  dawn  of  day,  the  words  of  re- 
proach, now  passionate,  now  pathetic,  ceased  not ;  and 
in  the  very  gray  of  the  morning,  Mrs.  P.  marched  down 
stairs  en  dishabille,  still  repeating  ejaculations  about  the 
Mungoozle  fishing  party.  What  happened  below  is  not 


'TIS    ONLY    MY    HUSBAND.  29 

precisely  ascertained  ;  but  there  was  a  terrible  turmoil  in 
the  kitchen,  it  being  perfectly  clear  a  whole  "  kettle  of 
fish"  was  in  preparation,  that  Pedrigo  might  not  have  the 
trouble  of  going  to  the  mountains  on  a  piscatorial  expe- 
dition. 

He  remained  seated  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  like  Ma 
rius  upon  the  ruins  of  Carthage,  meditating  upon  th6 
situation  of  affairs,  and  balancing  between  a  surrender  to 
petticoat  government  and  his  dread  of  Mongoozle's  song 
at  the  "  free  and  easies."  At  length  he  slipped  down. 
Mrs.  Pumpilion  sat  glooming  at  the  parlour  window. 
Pedrigo  tried  to  read  the  "  Saturday  News"  upside 
down. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Pumpilion !  Going  a  fishing, 
Mr.  Pumpilion  !  Mike  Mitts,  funny  Joe  Mungoozle,  and 
Tommy  Titcomb  must  be  waiting  for  you — you  know,' 
continued  she  with  a  mocking  smile,  "  you're  to  go  this 
morning  to  the  mountains  on  a  rough  and  tumble  for  the 
benefit  of  your  wholesomes.  The  elegance  of  the  phra- 
seology is  quite  in  character  with  the  whole  affair." 

Pedrigo  was  tired  out ;  Mrs.  Margery  Daw's  perseve- 
rance prescription  had  been  too  much  for  the  Mitts 
method ;  the  widow  had  overmatched  the  bachelor. 

"  No,  Seraphina  my  dearest,  I'm  not  going  a  fishing, 
if  you  don't  desire  it,  and  I  see  you  don't." 

Not  a  word  about  its  being  likely  to  xain — the  surren 
der  was  unconditional. 

"  But,"  added  Pedrigo,  "  I  should  like  to  have  a  -.ittle 
oreakfast." 

Mrs.  Pumpilion  was  determined  to  clinch  the  nail. 

"  There's  to  be  no  breakfast  here — I've  been  talkinp 
to  Sally  and  Tommy  in  the  kitchen,  and  I  verily  believe 
the  whole  world's  in  a  plot  against  me.  They're  gone 
Mr.  Pumpilion — gone  a  fishing,  perhaps." 


30  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

The  battle  was  over — the  victory  was  won — the  nail 
was  clinched.  Tealess,  sleepless,  breakfastless,  what 
could  Pedrigo  do  but  sue  for  mercy,  and  abandon  a  con- 
test waged  against  such  hopeless  odds  ?  The  supplies 
being  cut  off,  the  siege-worn  garrison  must  surrender. 
After  hours  of  solicitation,  the  kiss  of  amity  was  reluct- 
antly accorded ;  on  condition,  however,  that  "  funny  Joe 
Mungoozle"  and  the  rest  of  the  fishing  party  should  be 
given  up,  and  that  he,  Pedrigo,  for  the  future  should 
refrain  from  associating  with  bachelors  and  widowers, 
both  of  whom  she  tabooed,  and  consort  with  none  but 
staid  married  men. 

i  From  this  moment  the  individuality  of  that  once  free 
agent,  Pedrigo  Pumpilion,  was  sunk  into  "  only  my  hus- 
band"— the  humblest  of  all  humble  animals.  He  fetches 
and  carries,  goes  errands,  and  lugs  band-boxes  and  bun- 
dles ;  he  walks  the  little  Pumpilions  up  and  down  the 
room  when  they  squall  o'  nights,  and  he  never  comes  in 
when  any  of  his  wife's  distinguished  friends  call  to  visit 
her.  In  truth,  Pedrigo  is  not  always  in  a  presentable 
condition  ;  for  as  Mrs.  Pumpilion  is  de  facto  treasurer, 
he  is  kept  upon  rather  short  allowance,  her  wants  being 
paramount  and  proportioned  to  the  dignity  of  head  of  the 
family.  But,  although  he  is  now  dutiful  enough,  he  at 
first  ventured  once  or  twice  to  be  refractory.  These 
symptoms  of  insubordination,  however,  were  soon 
quelled — for  Mrs.  Pumpilion,  with  a  significant  glance, 
inquired, — 

"Art  you  going  a  fishing  again,  my  dear?" 


ORSON  DABBS,  THE  HITTITE 


IT  has  been  said,  and  truly,  that  it  takes  all  sorts  of 
people  to  make  a  world.  He  who  complains  of  the  lights 
and  shades  of  character  which  are  eternally  flitting  be- 
fore him,  and  of  the  diversity  of  opposing  interests 
which  at  times  cross  his  path,  has  but  an  illiberal,  con- 
tracted view  of  the  subject;  and  though  the  Emperor 
Charles  the  Fifth,  in  his  retirement  at  Estremadura,  had 
some  reason  for  being  a  little  annoyed  when  he  could  not 
cause  two  or  three  score  of  watches  to  go  together,  yet 
he  was  wrong  in  sighing  over  his  previous  ineffectual 
efforts  to  make  men  think  alike.  It  is,  to  speak  figura- 
tively, the  clashing  which  constitutes  the  music.  The 
harmony  of  the  whole  movement  is  produced  by  the 
fusion  into  each  other  of  an  infinite  variety  of  petty  dis- 
cords ;  as  a  glass  of  punch  depends  for  its  excellence  upon 
the  skilful  commingling  of  opposing  flavours  and  antago- 
nising materials.  Were  the  passengers  in  a  wherry  to 
be  of  one  mind,  they  would  probably  all  sit  upon  the 
same  side,  and  hence,  naturally,  pay  a  visit  to  the  Davy 
Jones  of  the  river  ;  and  if  all  the  men  of  a  nation  thought 
alike,  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  the  ship  of  state  must 
lose  her  trim.  The  system  of  checks  and  balances  per- 
vades both  the  moral  and  the  physical  world,  and  without 
it,  affairs  would  soon  hasten  to  their  end.  It  is,  therefore, 
clear  that  we  must  have  all  sorts  of  people, — some  to  pre- 
*ent  stagnation,  and  others  to  act  as  ballast  to  an  excess 
3 


32  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

of  animation.  The  steam  engines  of  humanity  must  have 
their  breaks  and  their  safety  valves,  and  the  dead  weights 
of  society  require  the  whip  and  the  spur. 

Orson  Dabbs  certainly  is  entitled  to  a  place  among  tne 
stimulants  of  the  world,  and  it  is  probable  that  in  exer- 
cising his  impulses,  he  produces  beneficial  effects.  But  it 
would  puzzle  a  philosopher  to  designate  the  wholesome 
results  which  follow  from  his  turbulent  movements,  or 
to  show,  either  by  synthesis  or  analysis,  wherein  he  is 
a  good.  At  all  events,  Orson  Dabbs  has  the  reputation 
of  being  a  troublesome  fellow  in  the  circles  upon  which 
he  inflicts  himself;  and,  judging  from  the  evidence  eli- 
cited upon  the  subject,  there  is  little  reason  to  doubt  the 
fact.  He  is  dogmatical,  and  to  a  certain  extent  fond  of 
argument ;  but  when  a  few  sharp  words  will  not  make 
converts,  he  abandons  those  windy  weapons  with  con- 
tempt, and  has  recourse  to  more  forcible  persuaders — a 
pair  of  fists,  each  of  which  looks  like  a  shoulder  of 
mutton. 

••  If  people  are  so  obstinate  that  they  won't,  or  so 
stupid  that  they  can't  understand  you,"  observed  Dabbs, 
in  one  of  his  confidential  moments — for  Orson  Dabbs 
wiii  sometimes  unbend,  and  suffer  those  abstruse  maxims 
which  govern  his  conduct  to  escape — "  if  either  for  one 
reason  or  the  other,"  continued  he,  with  that  impressive 
iteration  which  at  once  gives  time  to  collect  and  marshal 
one's  thoughts,  and  lets  the  listener  know  that  something 
of  moment  is  coming — "if  they  won't  be  convinced — > 
easily  and  genteelly  convinced — you  must  knock  it  into 
'em  short  hand ;  if  they  can't  comprehend,  neither  by 
due  coarse  of  mail,  nor  yet  by  express,  you  must  make 
'em  understand  by  telegraph.  That's  the  way  I  learnt 
ciphering  at  school,  and  manners  and  genteel  behaviour 
at  home.  All  I  know  was  walloped  into  me.  I  took 


ORSON    DABBS,    THE    HITTITE.  33 

larnin'  through  the  skin,  and  sometimes  they  made  a  good 
many  holes  to  get  it  in." 

"  And,"  timidly  interjected  an  humble  admirer  of  thia 
great  man,  hazarding  a  joke,  with  an  insinuating  smile ; 
"  and  I  s'pose  you're  so  wise  now  because  the  hide 
growed  over  it,  and  the  larnin'  couldn't  get  out,  like  In- 
gey  ink  in  a  sailor's  arm." 

"  Jeames,"  replied  Orson  Dabbs,  relaxing  into  a  grim 
smile,  like  that  of  the  griffin  face  of  a  knocker,  and 
shaking  his  "bunch  of  fives"  sportively,  as  one  snaps  an 
unloaded  gun — Napoleon  tweaked  the  ears  of  his  cour- 
tiers— why  should  not  Dabbs  shake  his  fist  at  his  satel- 
lites ? — "  Jeames,  if  you  don't  bequit  poking  fun  at  me, 
I'll  break  your  mouth,  Jeames,  as  sure  as  you  sit  there. 
But,  to  talk  sensible,  walloping  is  the  only  way — it's  a 
panacea  for  differences  of  opinion.  You'll  find  it  in  his- 
tory books,  that  one  nation  teaches  another  whatitdidn  t 
know  before  by  walloping  it ;  that's  the  method  of  civil- 
izing savages — the  Romans  put  the  whole  world  to  rights 
that  way  ;  and  what's  right  on  the  big  figger  must  be 
right  on  the  small  scale.  In  short,  there's  nothing  like 
walloping  for  taking  the  conceit  out  of  fellows  who  think 
they  know  more  than  their  betters.  Put  it  to  'em  strong, 
and  make  'em  see  out  of  their  eyes." 

Orson  Dabbs  acts  up  to  these.golden  maxims.  Seeing 
that,  from  disputes  between  dogs  up  to  quarrels  between 
nations,  fighting  is  the  grand  umpire  and  regulator,  he 
resolves  all  power  into  that  of  the  fist, — treating  bribery, 
reason,  and  persuasion  as  the  means  only  of  those 
unfortunate  individuals  to  whom  nature  has  denied  the 
stronger  attributes  of  humanity.  Nay,  he  even  turns  up 
his  nose  at  betting  as  a  means  of  discovering  truth. 
Instead  of  stumping  an  antagonist  by  launching  out  his 
cash,  Dabbs  shakes  a  portentous  fist  under  his  nose,  and 
133 


34  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

the  affair  is  settled ;  the  recusant  must  either  "knock  under 
or  be  knocked  down,  which,  according  to  our  hero,  is  all 
the  same  in  Dutch.  In  this  way,  when  politics  ran 
high,  he  used  to  decide  who  was  to  be  elected  to  any 
specified  office  ;  and  he  has  often  boasted  that  he  once,  in 
less  than  five  minutes  too,  scared  a  man  into  giving  the 
Dabbs  candidate  a  large  majority,  when  the  unfortunate 
stranger  did  not  at  first  believe  that  the  said  candidate 
would  be  elected  at  all. 

Some  people  believe  that  the  fist  is  the  poorest  of 
arguments,  and  that  it,  therefore,  should  be  the  last. 
Here  they  are  completely  at  issue  with  Dabbs,  and  it  is 
well  that  they  do  not  fall  in  his  way,  or  he  would  soon 
show  them  the  difference.  With  him  it  is  what  action 
was  to  the  ancient  orator,  the  first,  the  middle,  and  the 
last.  Being  himself,  in  a  great  measure,  fist  proof,  he 
is  very  successful  in  the  good  work  of  proselytism,  and 
has  quite  a  reputation  as  a  straightforward  reasoner  and 
a  forcible  dialectitian. 

Misfortunes,  however,  will  sometimes  happen  to  the 
most  successful.  The  loftiest  nose  may  be  brought  to 
the  grindstone,  and  the  most  scornful  dog  may  be  obliged 
to  lunch  upon  dirty  pudding.  Who  can  control  his  fate  ? 
One  night  Mr.  Dabbs  came  home  from  his  "loafing" 
place — for  he  "loafs"  of  an  evening,  like  the  generality 
of  people — that  being  the  most  popular  and  the  cheapest 
amusement  extant ;  and,  from  the  way  he  blurted  open 
the  door  of  the  Goose  and  Gridiron,  where  he  resides, 
and  from  the  more  unequivocal  manner  in  which  he  slam- 
med it  after  him,  no  doubt  existed  in  the  minds  of  his 
fellow  boarders  that  the  well  of  his  good  spirits  had  been 
"  riled ;"  or,  in  more  familiar  phrase,  that  he  was 
"  spotty  on  the  back."  His  hat  was  pitched  forward, 
with  a  bloodthirsty,  piratical  rakishness,  and  almost 


ORSON    DABBS,    THE    HITTITE  35 

covered  his  eyes,  which  gleamed  like  ignited  charcoal 
under  a  jeweller's  blowpipe.  His  cheeks  were  flushed 
with  an  angry  spot,  and  his  nose — always  a  quarrelsome 
pug — curled  more  fiercely  upward,  as  if  the  demon  wrath 
had  turned  archer,  and  was  using  it  for  a  bow  to  draw 
an  arrow  to  its  head.  His  mouth  had  set  in  opposition 
to  his  nasal  promontory,  and  savagely  curved  downward, 
like  a  half-moon  battery.  Dabbs  was  decidedly  out  of 
sorts — perhaps  beery,  as  well  as  wolfy  ;  in  short,  in  that 
unenviable  state  in  which  a  man  feels  disposed  to  divide 
himself,  and  go  to  buffets — to  kick  himself  with  his  own 
foot — to  beat  himself  with  his  own  fist,  and  to  throw  his 
own  dinner  out  of  the  window. 

The  company  were  assembled  lound  the  fire  to  dis- 
cuss politics,  literature,  men,  and  things.  Dabbs  looked 
not  at  them,  but,  slinging  Tommy  Timid's  bull  terrier 
Oseola  out  of  the  arm-chair  in  the  corner,  by  the  small 
stump  of  a  tail  which  fashion  and  the  hatchet  had  left  the 
animal,  he  sat  himself  moodily  down,  with  a  force  that 
made  the  timbers  creak.  The  conversation  was  turning 
upon  a  recent  brilliant  display  of  the  aurora  borealis, 
whhh  the  more  philosophical  of  the  party  supposed  to 
arise  from  the  north  pole  having  become  red-hot  for 
want  of  grease  ;  while  they  all  joined  in  deriding  the  po- 
pular fallacy  that  it  was  caused  by  the  high  price  of  flour. 

"Humph!"  said  Dabbs,  with  a  grunt,  "any  fool 
might  know  that  it  was  a  sign  of  war." 

"  War  !"  ejaculated  the  party  ;  "  oh,  your  granny  !" 

"  Yes,  war !"  roared  Dabbs,  kicking  the  bull  terrier 
Oseola  in  the  ribs,  and  striking  the  table  a  tremendous 
blow  with  his  fist,  as,  with  clenched  teeth  and  out-poked 
head,  he  repeated,  "  War !  war  !  war  !" 

Now  the  Goose  and  Gridiron  fraternity  set  up  for 
knowing  geniuses,  and  will  not  publicly  acknowledge 


36  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

faith  in  the  doctrines  on  meteorology  broached  by  their 
grandmothers,  whatever  they  may  think  in  private.  So 
they  quietly  remarked,  confiding  in  their  numbers  against 
the  Orson  Dabbs  method  of  conversion,  that  the  aurora 
was  not  a  sign  of  war,  but  an  evidence  of  friction  and 
of  no  grease  on  the  axle  of  the  world. 

"  That's  a  lie  !"  shouted  Dabbs  ;  "  my  story's  the  true 
one,  for  I  read  it  in  an  almanac ;  and  to  prove  it  true, 
I'll  lick  anybody  here  that  don't  believe  it,  in  two  cracks 
of  a  cow's  thumb.  Yes,"  added  he,  in  reply  to  the  looks 
bent  upon  him;  "I'll  not  only  wallop  them  that  don't 
believe  it,  but  I'll  wallop  you  all,  whether  you  do  or 
not !" 

This,  however,  was  a  stretch  of  benevolence  to  which 
the  company  were  not  prepared  to  submit.  As  Dabbs 
squared  off  to  proceed  secundiim  artem,  according  to  the 
approved  method  of  the  schools,  the  watchful  astrologer 
might  have  seen  his  star  grow  pale.  He  had  reached 
his  Waterloo — that  winter  night  was  his  18th  of  June. 
He  fell,  as  many  have  fallen  before  him,  by  that  implicit 
reliance  on  his  own  powers  which  made  him  forgetful 
of  the  risk  of  encountering  the  long  odds.  The  threat 
was  too  comprehensive,  and  the  attempt  at  execution 
was  a  failure.  The  company  cuffed  him  heartily,  and 
in  the  fray  the  bull  terrier  Oseola  vented  its  cherished 
wrath  by  biting  a  piece  out  of  the  fleshiest  portion  of  his 
frame.  Dabbs  was  ousted  by  a  summary  process,  but 
his  heart  did  not  fail  him.  He  thundered  at  the  door, 
sometimes  with  his  fists,  and  again  with  whatever  missiles 
were  within  reach.  The  barking  of  the  dog  and  the 
laughter  from  within,  as  was  once  remarked  of  certain 
military  heroes,  did  not  "  intimate  him  in  the  least, 
it  only  estimated  him." 

The  noise  at  last  became  so  great  that  a  watchman 


ORSON    DABBS,    THE    HITTITE.  37 

finally  summoned  up  resolution  enough  to  come  near, 
and  to  take  Dabbs  by  the  arm. 

"  Let  go,  watchy  ! — let  go,  my  cauliflower  !  Your 
cocoa  is  very  near  a  sledge-hammer.  If  it  isn't  hard,  it 
may  get  cracked." 

"  Pooh  !  pooh !  don't  be  onasy,  my  darlint — my 
cocoa  is  a  corporation  cocoa — it  belongs  to  the  city,  and 
they'll  get  me  a  new  one.  Besides,  my  jewel,  there's 
two  cocoas  standing  here,  you  know.  Don't  be  bnasy— • 
it  mayn't  be  mine  that  will  get  cracked." 

"  I  ain't  onasy,"  said  Dabbs,  bitterly,  as  he  turned 
fiercely  round.  "  I  ain't  onasy.  I  only  want  to  caution 
you,  or  I'll  upset  your  apple  cart,  and  spill  your  peaches." 

"  I'm  not  in  the  wegetable  way,  my  own-self,  Mr 
Horse-radish.  You  must  make  less  noise." 

"  Now,  look  here — look  at  me  well,"  said  Dabbs,  strik- 
ing his  fist  hard  upon  his  own  bosom  ;  "  I'm  a  real  nine 
foot  breast  of  a  fellow — stub  twisted  and  made  of  horse- 
shoe nails — the  rest  of  me  is  cast  iron  with  steel  springs. 
I'll  stave  my  fist  right  through  you,  and  carry  you  on 
my  elbow,  as  easily  as  if  you  were  an  empty  market 
basket — I  will — bile  me  up  for  soap  if  I  don't!" 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  why,  you  must  be  a  real  Calcutta-from- 
Canting,  warranted  not  to  cut  in  the  eye.  Snakes  is  no 
touch  to  you  ;  but  I'm  sorry  to  say  you  must  knucKle 
down  close.  You  must  surrender ;  there's  no  help  for 
it — none  in  the  world." 

"  Square  yourself  then,  for  I'm  coming  !  Don't  you 
hear  the  clockvorks  !"  exclaimed  Dabbs,  as  he  shook 
off  the  grip  of  the  officer,  and  struck  an  attitude. 

He  stood  beautifully  ;  feet  well  set ;  guard  well  up  , 
admirable  science,  yet  fearful  to  look  upon.  Like  the 
Adriatic,  Dabbs  was  "  lovelily  dreadful"  on  this  exciting 
occasion.  But  when  "  Greek  meets  Greek,"  fierce  looks 


38  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

and  appalling  circumstances  amount  to  nothing.  The 
opponent  of  our  hero,  after  regarding  him  coolly  for  a 
moment,  whistled  with  great  contempt,  and  with  provok- 
ing composure,  beat  down  his  guard  with  a  smart  blow 
from  a  heavy  mace,  saying, — 

"  'Taint  no  use,  no  how — you're  all  used  up  for  bait." 

"  Ouch !"  shrieked'  Dabbs  ;  "  my  eye,  how  it  hurts  ! 
Don't  hit  me  again.  Ah,  good  man,  but  you're  a  bruiser. 
One,  two,  three,  from  you  would  make  a  person  believe 
any  thing,  even  if  he  was  sure  it  wasn't  true." 

"  Very  well,"  remarked  the  macerator,  "  all  I  want 
of  you  is  to  behave  nice  and  genteel,  and  believe  you're 
going  to  the  watch'us,  for  it's  true;  and  if  you  don't 
believe  it  yet,  why  (shaking  his  mace)  I  shall  feel 
obligated  to  conwince  you  again." 

As  this  was  arguing  with  him  after  his  own  method, 
and  as  Dabbs  had  distinct  impressions  of  the  force  of 
the  reasoning,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  then 
rubbing  his  arms,  muttered,  "  Enough  said." 

He  trotted  off  quietly  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 
Since  the  affair  and  its  consequences  have  passed  away, 
he  has  been  somewhat  chary  of  entering  into  the  field  of 
argument,  and  particularly  careful  not  to  drink  too  much 
cold  water,  for  fear  the  bull  terrier  before  referred  to  was 
mad,  and  dreading  hydrophobic  convulsions. 


(30) 


ROCKY  SMALT; 

OR,  THE    DANGERS    OF    IMITATION 


MAN  is  an  imitative  animal,  and  so  strong  is  the 
instinctive  feeling  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  others, 
that  he  who  is  so  fortunate  as  to  strike  out  a  new  path 
must  travel  rapidly,  if  he  would  avoid  being  run  down  by 
imitators,  and  preserve  the  merit  of  originality.  If  his 
discovery  be  a  good  one,  the  "servum  pecus"  will  sweep 
toward  it  like  an  avalanche  ;  and  so  quick  will  be  their 
motion,  that  the  daring  spirit  who  first  had  the  self- 
reliance  to  turn  from  the  beaten  track,  is  in  danger  of 
being  lost  among  the  crowd,  and  of  having  his  claim  to 
the  honours  of  a  discoverer  doubted  and  derided.  Turn 
where  you  will,  the  imitative  propensity  is  to  be 
found  busily  at  work ;  its  votaries  clustering  round  the 
falcon  to  obtain  a  portion  of  the  quarry  which  the  nobler 
bird  has  stricken  ;  and  perhaps,  like  Sir  John  FalstafF, 
to  deal  the  prize  a  "  new  wound  in  the  thigh,"  and 
falsely  claim  the  wreath  of  victory.  In  the  useful  arts, 
there  are  thousands  of  instances  in  which  the  real  dis- 
coverer has  been  thrust  aside  to  give  place  to  the  imita- 
tor ;  and  in  every  other  branch  in  which  human  ingenu 
ity  has  been  exercised,  if  the  flock  of  copyists  do  not 
obtain  the  patent  right  of  fame,  they  soon,  where  it  is 
practicable,  wear  out  the  novelty,  and  measurably  deprive 


40  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

the  inventor  of  the  consideration  to  which  he  is  entitled. 
In  the  apportionment  of  applause,  the  praise  too  often 
depends  upon  which  is  first  seen,  the  statue  or  the  cast — 
although  the  one  be  marble,  and  the  other  plaster. 

In  business,  no  one  can  hope  to  recommend  his  wares 
to  patronage  in  a  new  and  taking  way,  no  matter  what 
outlay  of  thought  has  been  required  for  its  invention, 
without  finding  multitudes  prompt  in  the  adoption  of 
the  same  device.  He  who  travels  by  a  fresh  and  ver- 
dant path  in  literature,  and  is  successful,  soon  hears  the 
murmurs  of  a  pursuing  troop,  and  has  his  by-way  con- 
verted into  a  dusty  turnpike,  macadamized  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  "  writing  made  easy  ;"  while,  on  the  stage,  the 
drama  groans  with  great  ones  at  second-hand.  The 
illustrious  in  tragedy  can  designate  an  army  of  those, 
who,  unable  to  retail  their  beauties,  strive  for  renown  by 
exaggerating  their  defects  ;  and  Thalia  has  even  seen  her 
female  aids  cut  off  their  flowing  locks,  and  teach  them- 
selves to  wriggle,  because  she  who  was  in  fashion  wore 
a  crop,  and  had  adopted  a  gait  after  her  own  fancy. 

It  is  to  this  principle  that  a  professional  look  is  attri- 
butable. In  striving  to  emulate  the  excellence  of  another, 
the  student  thinks  he  has  made  an  important  step  if  he 
can  catch  the  air»  manner,  and  tone  of  his  model ;  and 
believes  that  he  is  in  a  fair  way  to  acquire  equal  wisdom, 
if  he  can  assume  the  same  expression  of  the  face,  and 
compass  the  same  "  hang  of  the  nether  lip."  We  have 
seen  a  pupil  endeavouring  to  help  himself  onward  in 
the  race  for  distinction  by  wearing  a  coat  similar  in  cut 
and  colour  to  that  wherewith  his  preceptor  indued 
himself;  and  we  remember  the  time  when  whole  classes 
at  a  certain  eastern  university  became  a  regiment  of 
ugly  Dromios,  lengthening  their  visages,  and  smoothing 
their  hair  down  to  their  eyes,  for  no  other  reason  than 


ROCKY    SMALT  41 

that  an  eminent  and  popular  professor  chose  to  display 
his  frontispiece  after  that  fashion — and  that,  as  they 
emulated  his  literary  abilities,  they,  therefore,  thought  it 
advantageous  to  imitate  his  personal  defects.  When 
Byron's  fame  was  in  the  zenith,  poetic  scribblers  dealt 
liberally  in  shirt  collar,  and  sported  an  expanse  of  neck ; 
and  when  Waterloo  heroes  were  the  wonders  of  the 
hour,  every  town  in  England  could  show  its  limpers  and 
hobblers,  who,  innocent  of  war,  would  fain  have  passed 
for  men  damaged  by  the  French.  On  similar  grounds, 
humps,  squints,  impediments  of  speech,  mouths  awry, 
and  limbs  distorted,  have  been  the  rage. 

How  then  could  Orson  Dabbs,  the  Hittite,  admired 
and  peculiar  as  he  was,  both  for  his  ways  and  for  his 
opinions,  hope  to  escape  imitation  ?  If  he  entertained 
such  a  belief,  it  was  folly ;  and  if  he  dreamed  that  he 
could  so  thump  the  world  as  to  preserve  his  originality, 
it  was  a  mere  delusion.  Among  the  many  who  fre- 
quented the  Goose  and  Gridiron,  where  Orson  re- 
sided, was  one  Rocky  Smalt,  whose  early"  admiration 
for  the  great  one  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  words  to 
utter,  though  subsequent  events  converted  that  admira- 
tion into  hostility.  Rocky  Smalt  had  long  listened  with 
delight  to  Orson's  lectures  upon  the  best  method  of 
removing  difficulties,  which,  according  to  him,  is  by 
thumping  them  down,  as  a  paviour  smooths  the  streets ; 
and  as  Orson  descanted,  and  shook  his  fists  in  exempli- 
fication of  the  text,  the  soul  of  Rocky,  like  a  bean  in  a 
bottle,  swelled  within  him  to  put  these  sublime  doctrines 
in  practice. 

Now,  it  unluckily  happens  that  Rocky  Smalt  is  a 
very  little  man — one  of  the  feather  weights — which 
militates  somewhat  against  the  gratification  of  his  pugi- 
listic desires,  insomuch  that  if  he  "  squares  off"  at  a  big 


42  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES 

fellow,  he  is  obliged,  in  dealing  a  facer,  to  hit  his  antago- 
nist on  the  knee ;  and  a  blow  given  there,  everybody 
knows,  neither  "  bungs  a  peeper"  nor  "  taps  a  smeller." 
But  Rocky,  being  to  a  certain  degree  aware  of  his  gla- 
diatorial deficiencies,  is  rather  theoretical  than  practical ; 
that  is,  he  talks  much  more  than  he  battles.  His  narra- 
tives, differing  from  himself,  are  colossal ;  and  as  Colos- 
sus stood  with  one  foot  on  one  side,  and  with  the  other 
foot  on  the  other  side,  so  do  Rocky's  speeches  refer  to 
the  past  and  to  the  future — to  what  he  has  done,  and  to 
what  he  means  to  do.  He  is  now  retrospective,  and 
again  prospective,  in  talking  of  personal  contention,  his 
combats  never  being  present,  which  is  by  far  the  most 
agreeable  method  of  obtaining  reputation,  as  we  thereby 
avoid  the  inconvenience  of  pricking  our  fingers  in  gather- 
ing glory. 

Rocky,  in  copying  Dabbs  as  to  his  belligerent  princi- 
ples, is  likewise  careful  to  do  the  same,  as  far  as  it  is 
possible,  in  relation  to  personal  appearance.  He  is, 
therefore,  a  pocket  Dabbs — a  miniature  Orson.  He 
cultivates  whiskers  to  the  apex  of  the  chin  ;  and  although 
they  are  not  very  luxuriant,  they  make  up  in  length 
what  they  want  in  thickness.  He  cocks  his  hat  fiercely, 
rolls  in  his  gait,  and,  with  doubled  fists,  carries  his  arms 
in  the  muscular  curve,  elbows  pointing  outward,  and 
each  arm  forming  the  segment  of  a  circle.  He  slams 
doors  after  him,  kicks  little  dogs,  and  swears  at  little 
boys,  as  Orson  does.  If  any  one  runs  against  him,  he 
waits  until  the  offender  is  out  of  hearing,  and  then 
denounces  him  in  the  most  energetic  expletives  belong- 
ing to  the  language,  and  is  altogether  a  vinaigrette  of 
wrath.  It  is  the  combat  only  that  bothers  Smalt ;  if  it 
were  not  for  that  link  in  the  chain  of  progression  from 
defiance  to  victory,  he  would  indeed  be  a  most  truculent 


ROCKY    SMALT. 


43 


hero,  and  deserve  a  salary  from  all  the  uose  menders 
about  town,  whether  natural  bone-setters  or  gristle-tinkers 
by  commission — were  it  not  for  that,  Larrey's  Military 
Surgery  would  be  in  continual  demand,  as  a  guide  to  the 
cure  of  contusions,  and  so  great  would  be  the  application 
of  oysters  to  the  eye,  that  there  would  be  a  scarcity  of 
shell-fish. 

Sometimes,  however,  Smalt's  flaming  ardour  precipi- 
tates him  into  a  quarrel ;  but,  even  then,  he  manages 
/natt  .rs  very  adroitly,  by  selecting  the  largest  individual 
of  the  opposite  faction  for  his  antagonist. 

"  Come  on  !"  shrieks  Smalt,  in  such  an  emergency  ; 
''come  on  !  I'll  lick  any  thing  near  my  own  weight.  I'll 
^haw  up  any  indewidooal  that's  fairly  my  match — yes, 
and  give  him  ten  pounds.  I  ain't  petickelar,  when  it's 
a  matter  of  accommodation.  Whe-e-w  !  fire  away  !" 

But,  as  Rocky's  weight  is  just  ninety-four  pounds, 
counting  boots,  hat,  dead-latch  key,  pennies,  ftps,  clothes, 
and  a  little  bit  of  cavendish,  he  is  certain  to  escape ;  for 
even  the  most  valiant  may  be  excused  from  encountering 
the  long  odds  in  a  pitched  battle,  although  he  may  some- 
times run  against  them  in  a  crowded  chance-medley. 
Rocky,  therefore,  puts  on  his  coat  again,  puffing  and 
blowing  like  a  porpoise,  as  he  walks  vapouring  about,  and 
repeating  with  an  occasional  attitude  a  la  Orson  Dabbs, 
"Any  thing  in  reason — and  a  little  chucked  in  to  accommo- 
date— when  I'm  wound  up,  it  'most  takes  a  stone  wall  to 
stop  me,  for  I  go  right  through  the  timber — that's  me !" 

Yet  these  happy  days  of  theoretical  championship  at 
length  were  clouded.  Science  .avails  nothing  against 
love :  Dan  Cupid  laughs  at  sparring,  and  beats  down  the 
most  perfect  guard.  It  so  fell  out  that  Orson  Dabbs  and 
Rocky  Smalt  both  were  smitten  with  the  tender  passion 
at  the  same  time,  the  complaint  perhaps  being  epidemic 


44  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

at  the  season.  This,  however,  though  individually 
troublesome,  as  the  disorder  is  understood  to  be  a  sharp 
one,  would  not  have  been  productive  of  discord  between 
them,  had  it  not  unluckily  happened  that  they  became 
enamoured  of  the  same  "fair  damosel."  Two  warriors 
and  but  one  lady! — not  one  lady  per  piece,  to  speak 
commercially,  but  one  lady  per  pair.  This  was  embar- 
rassing— this  was  dangerous.  Miss  Araminta  Stycke— • 
or  Miss  Mint  Stycke,  as  she  was  sometimes  more  sweetly 
termed — could  not,  according  to  legal  enactments,  marry 
both  the  gentlemen  in  question ;  and  as  each  was  deter- 
mined to  have  her  entire,  the  situation  was  decidedly  per- 
plexing, essentially  bothering,  and  effectively  dramatic, 
which,  however  amusing  to  the  looker-on,  is  the  ne  plus 
ultra  of  discomfort  to  those  who  form  the  tableau.  Miss 
Araminta  could  doubtless  have  been  very  "  happy  with 
either,  were  t'other  dear  charmer  away ;"  but  this  was 
out  of  the  question;  for,  when  Dabbs  on  one  side  stuck 
to  Stycke,  Smalt  on  the  other  side  just  as  assiduously 
stuck  to  Stycke,  and  both  stickled  stoutly  for  her 
smiles. 

"  My  dear  Mint  Stycke,"  said  Rocky  Smalt,  at  a  tea 
party,  taking  hold  of  a  dish  of  plums  nicely  done  in  mo- 
lasses— "  my  dear  Mint  Stycke,  allow  me  to  help  you  to 
a  small  few  of  the  goodies." 

"  Minty,  my  darling  !"  observed  Dabbs,  who  sat  on 
her  left  hand,  Rocky  being  on  the  right—"  Minty  my 
darling,"  repeated  Dabbs,  with  that  dashing  familiarity 
so  becoming  in  a  majestic  personage,  as  he  stretched 
forth  his  hand,  and  likewise  grasped  the  dish  of  plums, 
"  I  insist  upon  helping  you  myself." 

The  consequence  was  an  illustration  of  the  embarras 
of  having  two  lovers  on  the  ground  at  the  same  time. 
The  plums  were  spilt  in  such  a  way  as  to  render  Mis? 


ROCKY    SMALT.  45 

Stycke  sweeter  that  ever,  by  giving  "  sweets  to  the 
sweet ;"  but  the  young  lady  was  by  no  means  so  pretty 
to  look  at  as  she  had  been  before  the  ceremony. 

"Of  the  twain,  she  most  affected"  Dabbs,  of  which 
Rocky  was  not  a  little  jealous. 

"  Minty,  I  don't  care  for  Dabbs,"  said  Rocky,  in  heroic 
tones  ;  "  big  as  he  is,  if  he  comes  here  too  often  a  crossing 
me,  he'll  ketch  it.  I'll  thump  him,  Minty,  I  will — feed 
me  on  hay,  if  I  don't." 

Minty  laughed,  and  well  she  might,  for  just  then  Orson 
arrived,  and,  walking  into  the  room,  scowled  fiercely  at 
Smalt,  who  suddenly  remembered  "  he  had  to  go  some- 
wheres,  and  promised  to  be  there  early — he  must  go,  as 
it  was  a'most  late  now." 

"  He  thump  me!"  said  Dabbs,  with  a  supercilious 
smile,  when  Minty  repeated  the  threat.  "  The  next  time 
I  meet  that  chap,  I'll  take  my  stick  and  kill  it — I'll  sqush 
it  with  my  foot." 

Unhappily  for  the  serenity  of  his  mind,  Rocky  Smalt 
had  his  ear  at  the  key  hole  when  this  awful  threat  was 
made,  and  he  quaked  to  hear  it,  not  doubting  that  Dabbs 
would  be  as  good  as  his  word.  He,  therefore,  fled  instan- 
ter,  and  roamed  about  like  a  perturbed  spirit;  now  tra- 
velling quickly — anon  pausing  to  remember  the  frightful 
words,  and,  as  they  rushed  vividly  to  mind,  he  would 
hop-scotch  convulsively  and  dart  off  like  an  arrow,  the 
whole  being  done  in  a  style  similar  to  that  of  a  fish  which 
has  indulged  in  a  frolic  upon  cocculus  indicus.  In  the 
course  of  his  eccentric  rambles,  he  stopped  in  at  various 
places,  and,  either  from  that  cause,  or  some  other  which 
has  not  been  ascertained,  he  waxed  valiant  a  little  after 
midnight.  But,  as  his  spirits  rose,  his  locomotive  pro- 
pensity appeared  to  decrease,  and  he,  at  length,  sat  dowr 
on  a  step. 


t6  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

"  So  !"  soliloquized  our  hero  :  "  he  intends  to  belt  me, 
does  he  ?  Take  a  stick — sqush  with  his  foot — and  calls 
me  '  it' — '  it'  right  before  Minty  !  Powers  of  wengeance, 
settle  on  my  fist,  take  aim  with  my  knuckles,  and  shoot 
him  in  the  eye  !  If  I  wasn't  so  tired,  and  if  I  hadn't  a 
little  touch  of  my  family  disorder,  I'd  start  after  him.  I'd 
go  and  dun  him  for  the  hiding;  and  if  he'd  only  squat,  or 
let  me  stand  on  a  chair,  I'd  give  him  a  receipt  in  full, 
right  in  the  face,  under  my  own  hand  and  seal.  I'd 
knock  him  this-er  way,  and  I'd  whack  him  that-er  way, 
till  you  couldn't  tell  which  end  of  his  head  his  face 
was  on." 

Smalt  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and  threw  out  his 
blows,  right  and  left,  with  great  vigour. 

Suddenly,  however,  he  felt  a  heavy  hand  grasp  his 
shoulder,  and  give  him  a  severe  shake,  while  a  deep  gruff 
voice  exclaimed : 

" Halloo !  what  the  deuse  are  you  about?  You'll  tear 
your  coat." 

"  Ah  !"  ejaculated  Smalt,  with  a  convulsive  start ; 
'  oh,  don't !  I  holler  enough  !" 

"  Why,  little  'un,  you  must  be  cracked,  if  you  flunk 
out  before  we  begin.  Holler  enough,  indeed  !  nobody's 
guv'  you  any  yet." 

"  Ah !"  gasped  Small:,  turning  round ;  "  I  took  you 
for  Orson  Dabbs.  I  promised,  when  I  cotch'd  him,  to 
give  him  a  licking,  and  I  was  werry  much  afeard  I'd 
have  to  break  the  peace.  Breaking  the  peace  is  a  werry 
disagreeable  thing  fur  to  do  ;  but  I  must — I'm  conshensis 
about  it — when  I  ketches  Orson.  Somebody  ought  to 
tell  him  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  fur  fear  I'll  have  to  break 
the  peace." 

"  It  wouldn't  do  to  kick  up  a  row — but  I'm  thinking 
it  would  be  a  little  piece,  if  you  could  break  it.  I'U 


ROCKY    SMALT.  47 

carry  home  all  the  pieces  you  break  off,  in  my  waist- 
coat pocket.     You're  only  a  pocket  piece  yourself." 

"  Nobody  asked  your  opinions — go  'way.  I've  got  a 
job  of  thinking  to  do,  and  I  musn'tbe  disturbed — talking 
puts  me  out.  Paddle,  steamboat,  or " 

"  Take  keer — don't  persume,"  was  the  impressive 
reply  ;  "  I'm  a  'fishal  functionary  out  a  ketching  of  dogs. 
You  musn't  cut  up  because  it's  night.  The  mayor  and 
the  'squires  have  gone  to  bed ;  but  the  law  is  a  thing 
that  never  gets  asleep.  After  ten  o'clock,  the  law  is  a 
watchman  and  a  dog  ketcher — we're  the  whole  law  till 
breakfast's  a'most  ready." 

"  You  only  want  bristles  to  be  another  sort  of  a  whole 
animal,"  muttered  Smalt. 

"  Whew  !  confound  your  little  kerkus,  what  do  you 
mean?  I'd  hit  you  unofficially,  if  there  was  any  use  in 
pegging  at  a  fly." 

Smalt  began  to  feel  uneasy  ;  so,  taking  the  hint  con- 
veyed in  the  word  fly,  he  made  a  spring  as  the  com- 
mencement of  a  retreat  from  one  who  talked  so  fieicely 
and  so  disrespectfully.  But  he  had  miscalculated  his^ 
powers.  After  running  a  few  steps,  his  apprehensions 
overthrew  him,  and  his  persecutor  walking  up,  said  . 

"  Oh  !  you  stumpy  little  peace-breaker,  I  knows  what 
you  have  been  about — you've  been  drinking." 

"  You  nose  it,  hey  ? — much  good  may  it  do  you 
Can't  a  man  wet  his  whistle  without  your  nosing  it?" 

"  No,  you  can't — it's  agin  the  law,  which  is  very  fuK 
upon  this  pint." 

"  Pint !  Not  the  half  of  it — I  haven't  got  the  stowage 
room." 

The  "  ketcher"  laughed,  for,  notwithstanding  their 
sanguinary  profession,  ketchers,  like  Lord  Norbury,  are 
said  to  love  a  joke,  and  to  indulge  in  merriment,  when 


48  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

ever  the  boys  are  not  near.  He  therefore  picked  up 
Smalt,  ana  placing  him  upon  his  knee,  remarked  as 
follows : 

"  You're  a  clever  enough  kind  of  little  feller,  sonny ; 
but  you  ain't  been  eddicated  to  the  law  as  I  have ;  so  I'll 
give  you  a  lecture.  Justice  vinks  at  vot  it  can't  see,  and 
lets  them  off  vot  it  can't  ketch.  When  you  want  to  break 
it,  you  must  dodge.  You  may  do  what  you  like  in  your 
own  house,  and  the  law  don't  know  nothing  about  the 
matter.  But  never  go  thumping  and  bumping  about 
the  streets,  when  you  are  primed  and  snapped.  That's 
intemperance,  and  the  other  is  temperance.  But  now  you 
come  under  the  muzzle  of  the  ordinance — you're  a 
loafer." 

"  Now,  look  here — I'll  tell  you  the  truth.  Orson 
Dabbs  swears  he'll  belt  me — yes,  he  calls  me  '  it' — he 
said  he'd  sqush  me  with  his  foot — he'd  take  a  stick  and 
kill  « it' — me,  I  mean.  What  am  I  to  do  ? — there'll  be  a 
fight,  and  Dabbs  will  get  hurt." 

"  He  can't  do  what  he  says — the  law  declares  he 
musn't ;  and  if  he  does,  it  isn't  any  great  matter — he'll 
be  put  in  limbo,  you  know." 

This,  however,  was  a  species  of  comfort  which  had 
very  little  effect  upon  Smalt.  He  cared  nothing  about 
what  might  be  done  with  Orson  Dabbs  after  Orson  had 
done  for  him. 

His  new  friend,  however,  proved,  as  Smalt  classically 
remarked,  to  be  like  a  singed  cat,  much  better  than  he 
looked,  for  he  conducted  the  Lilliputian  hero  home,  and, 
bundling  him  into  the  entry,  left  him  there  in  comfort 
Rocky  afterwards  removed  to  another  part  of  the  town, 
for  the  purpose  of  keeping  clear  of  his  enemy,  and,  with 
many  struggles,  yielded  the  palm  in  relation  to  Miss 
-Vraminta  Stycke,  who  soon  became  Mrs.  Orson  Dabbs 


ROCKY    SMALT.  49 

After  this  event,  Rocky  Smalt,  who  is  not  above  the 
useful  employment  of  gathering  a  little  wisdom  from 
experience,  changed  his  system,  and  now  speaks  belli- 
gerently only  in  reference  to  the  past,  his  gasconading 
stories  invariably  beginning,  "A  few  years  age,  when  I 
was  a  fighting  carackter." 


134 


50  ) 


UNDEVELOPED  GENIUS. 

A   PASSAGE   IN    THE    LIFE    OF    P.   PILGARL1C& 
PIGWIGGEN,  ESQ. 


THE  world  has  heard  much  of  unwritten  music,  and 
more  of  unpaid  debts  ;  a  brace  of  unsubstantial! ties,  in 
which  very  little  faith  is  reposed.  The  minor  poets 
have  twangled  their  lyres  about  the  one,  until  the  sound 
has  grown  wearisome,  and  until,  for  the  sake  of  peace  and 
quietness,  we  heartily  wish  that  unwritten  music  were 
fairly  written  down,  and  published  in  Willig's  or  Blake's 
best  style,  even  at  the  risk  of  hearing  it  reverberate  from 
every  piano  in  the  city  :  while  iron-visaged  creditors — 
all  creditors  are  of  course  hard,  both  in  face  and  in 
heart,  or  they  would  not  ask  for  their  money — have 
chattered  of  unpaid  debts,  ever  since  the  flood,  with  a  wet 
finger,  was  uncivil  enough  to  wipe  out  pre-existing  scores, 
and  extend  to  each  skulking  debtor  the  "  benefit  of  the 
act."  But  undeveloped  genius,  which  is,  in  fact,  itself 
unwritten  music,  and  is  very  closely  allied  to  unpaid 
debts,  has,  as  yet,  neither  poet,  trumpeter,  nor  biographer 
Gray,  indeed,  hinted  at  it  in  speaking  of  "  village  Hamp- 
dens,"  "  mute  inglorious  Miltons,"  and  "  Cromwells 
guiltless,"  which  showed  him  to  be  man  of  some  dis- 
cernment, and  possessed  of  inklings  of  the  truth.  But 
the  general  science  of  mental  geology,  and  through  that, 
the  equally  important  details  of  mental  mineralogy  and 


UNDEVELOPED     GENIUS.  51 

mental  metallurgy,  to  ascertain  the  unseen  substratum 
of  intellect,  and  to  determine  its  innate  wealth,  are  as 
yet  unborn ;  or,  if  phrenology  be  admitted  as  a  branch 
of  these  sciences,  are  still  in  uncertain  infancy.  Unde- 
veloped genius,  therefore,  is  still  undeveloped,  and  is 
likely  to  remain  so,  unless  this  treatise  should  awaken 
some  capable  and  intrepid  spirit  to  prosecute  an  investi- 
gation at  once  so  momentous  and  so  interesting.  If  not, 
much  of  it  will  pass  through  the  world  undiscovered  and 
unsuspected;  while  the  small  remainder  can  manifest 
itself  in  no  other  way  than  by  the  aid  of  a  convulsion, 
turning  its  possessor  inside  out  like  a  glove  ;  a  method, 
which  the  earth  itself  was  ultimately  compelled  to  adopt, 
that  stupid  man  might  be  made  to  see  what  treasures 
are  to  be  had  for  the  digging. 

There  are  many  reasons  why  genius>  so  often  remains 
invisible.  The  owner  is  frequently  unconscious  of  the 
jewel  in  his  possession,  and  is  indebted  to  chance  for 
the  discovery.  Of  this,  Patrick  Henry  was  a  striking 
instance.  After  he  had  failed  as  a  shopkeeper,  and  was 
compelled  to  "  hoe  corn  and  dig  potatoes,"  alone  on  his 
little  farm,  to  obtain  a  meagre  subsistence  for  his  family, 
he  little  dreamed  that  he  had  that  within,  which  would 
enable  him  to  shake  the  throne  of  a  distant  tyrant,  and 
nerve  the  arm  of  struggling  patriots.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, the  possessor  is  conscious  of  his  gift,  but  it  is  to 
him  as  the  celebrated  anchor  was  to  the  Dutchman ;  he 
can  neither  use  nor  exhibit  it.  The  illustrious  Thomas 
Erskine,  in  his  first  attempt  at  the  bar,  made  so  signal  a 
failure  as  to  elicit  the  pity  of  the  good  natured,  and  the 
scorn  and  contempt  of  the  less  feeling  part  of  the  auditory. 
Nothing  daunted,  however,  for  he  felt  undeveloped 
genius  strong  within  him,  he  left  the  court;  muttering, 
"vith  more  profanity  than  was  proper,  but  with  much 


52  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

truth,  "  By !  it  is  in  me,  and  it  shall  come  out !" 

He  was  right ;  it  was  in  him  ;  he  did  get  it  out,  and 
rose  to  be  Lord  Chancellor  of  England. 

But  there  are  men  less  fortunate  ;  as  gifted  as  Erskine, 
though  perhaps  in  a  different  way,  they  swear  frequently, 
jis  he  did,  but  they  cannot  get  their  genius  out.  They 
feel  it,  like  a  rat  in  a  cage,  beating  against  their  barring 
ribs,  in  a  vain  struggle  to  escape;  and  thus,  with  the 
materials  for  building  a  reputation,  and  standing  high 
among  the  sons  of  song  and  eloquence,  they  pass  their 
lives  in  obscurity,  regarded  by  the  few  who  are  aware 
of  their  existence,  as  simpletons — fellows  sent  upon  the 
stage  solely  to  fill  up  the  grouping,  to  applaud  their 
superiors,  to  eat,  sleep,  and  die. 

P.  PILGARLICK  PIGWIGGEN,  Esq.,  as  he  loves  to  be 
styled,  is  one  of  these  unfortunate  undeveloped  gentle- 
men about  town.  The  arrangement  of  his  name  shows 
him  to  be  no  common  man.  Peter  P.  Pigwiggen  would 
be  nothing,  except  a  hailing  title  to  call  him  to  dinner, 
or  to  insure  the  safe  arrival  of  dunning  letters  and  tailors' 
bills.  There  is  as  little  character  about  it  as  about  the 
word  Towser,  the  individuality  of  which  has  been  lost 
by  indiscriminate  application.  To  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, he  might  just  as  well  be  addressed  as  "  You  Pete 
Pigwiggen,"  after  the  tender  maternal  fashion,  in  which, 
in  his  youthful  days,  he  was  required  to  quit  dabbling  ir 
the  gutter,  to  come  home  and  be  spanked.  But 


UNDEVELOPED    GENIUS.  53 

—the  aristocracy  of  birth  and  genius  is  all  about  it.  The 
very  letters  seem  tasselled  and  fringed  with  the  cobwebs 
of  antiquity.  The  flesh  creeps  with  awe  at  the  sound, 
and  the  atmosphere  undergoes  a  sensible  change,  as  at 
the  rarefying  approach  of  a  supernatural  being.  It  pene- 
trates the  hearer  at  each  perspiratory  pore.  The  drop- 
ping of  the  antepenultimate  in  a  man's  name,  and  the 
substitution  of  an  initial  therefor,  has  an  influence  which 
cannot  be  defined — an  influence  peculiarly  strong  in  the 
case  of  P.  Pilgarlick  Pigwiggen — the  influence  of  unde- 
veloped genius — analogous  to  that  which  bent  the  hazel 
rod,  in  the  hand  of  Dousterswivel,  in  the  ruins  of  St. 
Ruth,  and  told  of  undeveloped  water. 

But  to  avoid  digression,  or  rather  to  return  from  a  ram- 
ble in  the  fields  of  nomenclature,  P.  Pilgarlick  Pigwig- 
gen is  an  undeveloped  genius — a  wasted  man  ;  his  talents 
are  like  money  in  a  strong  box,  returning  no  interest.  He 
is,  in  truth,  a  species  of  Byron  in  the  egg :  but  unable  to 
chip  the  shell,  his  genius  remains  unhatched.  The 
chicken  moves  and  faintly  chirps  within,  but  no  one  sees 
it,  no  one  heeds  it.  Peter  feels  the  high  aspirations  and 
the  mysterious  imaginings  of  poesy  circling  about  the 
interior  of  his  cranium  ;  but  there  they  stay.  When  he 
attempts  to  give  them  utterance,  he  finds  that  nature  for- 
got to  bore  out  the  passage  which  carries  thought  to  the 
tongue  and  to  the  finger  ends ;  and  as  art  has  not  yet 
found  out  the  method  of  tunnelling  or  of  driving  a  drift 
into  the  brain,  to  remedy  such  defects,  and  act  as  a  gene- 
ral jail  delivery  to  the  prisoners  of  the  mind,  his  divine 
conceptions  continue  pent  in  their  osseous  cell.  In  vain 
does  Pigwiggen  sigh  for  a  splitting  headache — one  that 
shall  ope  the  sutures,  and  set  his  fancies  free.  In  vain 
does  he  shave  his  forehead  and  turn  down  his  shirt  col- 
lar, in  hope  of  finding  the  poetic  vomitory,  and  of  leaving 


6   ,  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

it  jlear  of  impediment ;  in  vain  does  he  drink  vast  quan- 
ta es  of  gin  to  raise  the  steam  so  high  that  it  may  burst 
imagination's  boiler,  and  suffer  a  few  drops  of  it  to 
esf-ape  ;  in  vain  does  he  sit  up  late  o'  nights,  using  all 
the  cigars  he  can  lay  his  hands  on,  to  smoke  out  the 
sec/et.  'Tis  useless  all.  No  sooner  has  he  spread  the 
paper,  and  seized  the  pen  to  give  bodily  shape  to  airy 
dreams,  than  a  dull  dead  blank  succeeds.  As  if  a  flourish 
of  the  quill  were  the  crowing  of  a  "  rooster,"  the  dainty 
Ariels  of  his  imagination  vanish.  The  feather  drops 
from  his  checked  fingers,  the  paper  remains  unstained, 
and  P.  Pilgarlick  Pigwiggen  is  still  an  undeveloped 
genius. 

Originally  a  grocer's  boy,  Peter  early  felt  he  had  a 
soul  above  soap  and  candles,  and  he  so  diligently  nou- 
rished it  with  his  master's  sugar,  figs,  and  brandy,  that 
early  one  morning  he  was  unceremoniously  dismissed 
with  something  more  substantial  than  a  flea  in  his  ear. 
His  subsequent  life  was  passed  in  various  callings  ;  but 
call  as  loudly  as  they  would,  our  hero  paid  little  attention 
to  their  voice.  He  had  an  eagle's  longings,  and  with  an 
inclination  to  stare  the  sun  out  of  countenance,  it  was 
not  to  be  expected  that  he  would  stoop  to  be  a  barn-yard 
fowl.  Working  when  he  could  not  help  it;  at  times 
pursuing  check  speculations  at  the  theatre  doors,  by 
way  of  turning  an  honest  penny,  and  now  and  then 
gaining  entrance  by  crooked  means,  to  feed  his  faculties 
with  a  view  of  the  performances,  he  likewise  pursued 
his  studies  through  all  the  ballads  in  the  market,  until 
qualified  to  read  the  pages  of  Moore  and  Byron. 
Glowing  with  ambition,  he  sometimes  pined  to  see 
the  poet's  corner  of  our  weekly  periodicals  graced 
with 'his  effusions.  But  though  murder  may  out,  his 
undeveloped  genius  would  not.  Execution  fell  so  far 


UNDEVELOPED    GENIUS.  55 

short  of  conception,  that  his  lyrics  were  invariably 
rejected. 

Deep,  but  unsatisfactory,  were  the  reflections  which 
thence  arose  in  the  breast  of  Pigwiggen. 

"  How  is  it,"  said  he — "  how  is  it  I  can't  level  down 
my  expressions  to  the  comprehension  of  the  vulgar,  or 
level  up  the  vulgar  to  a  comprehension  of  my  expres- 
sions ?  How  is  it  I  can't  get  the  spigot  out,  so  my 
verses  will  run  clear  ?  I  know  w,hat  I  mean  myself,  but 
nobody  else  does,  and  the  impudent  editors  say  it's  wast- 
ing room  to  print  what  nobody  understands.  I've  plenty 
of  genius — lots  of  it,  for  I  often  want  to  cut  my  throat, 
and  would  have  done  it  long  ago,  only  it  hurts.  I'm 
chock  full  of  genius  and  running  over  ;  for  I  hate  all  sorts 
of  work  myself,  and  all  sorts  of  people  mean  enough  to 
do  it.  I  hate  going  to  bed,  and  I  hate  getting  up.  My 
conduct  is  very  eccentric  and  singular.  I  have  the  mise- 
rable melancholies  all  the  time,  and  I'm  pretty  nearly 
always  as  cross  as  thunder,  which  is  a  sure  sign. 
Genius  is  as  tender  as  a  skinned  cat,  and  flies  into  a 
passion  whenever  you  touch  it.  When  I  condescend  to 
unbuzzum  myself,  for  a  little  sympathy,  to  folks  of  ornery 
intellect — and  caparisoned  to  me,  I  know  very  few 
people  that  ar'n't  ornery  as  to  brains — and  pour  forth 
the  feelings  indigginus  to  a  poetic  soul,  which  is  always 
biling,  they  ludicrate  my  sitiation,  and  say  they  don't 
know  what  the  dense  I'm  driving. at.  Isn't  genius  al- 
ways served  o'  this  fashion  in  the  earth,  as  Hamlet,  the  boy 
after  my  own  heart,  says  ?  And  when  the  slights  of  the 
world,  and  of  the  printers,  set  me  in  a  fine  frenzy,  and 
my  soul  swells  and  swells,  till  it  almost  tears  the  shirt 
off  my  buzzum,  and  even  fractures  my  dickey — when  it 
expansuates  and  elevates  me  above  the  common -herd, 
they  laugh  again,  and  tell  me  not  to  be  pompious.  The 


56  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

poor  plebinians  and  worse  than  Russian  scurfs  ! — It  ia 
the  fate  of  genius — it  is  his'n,  or  rather  I  should  say, 
her'n — to  go  through  life  with  little  sympathization  and 
less  cash.  Life's  a  field  of  blackberry  and  raspberry 
bushes.  Mean  people  squat  down  and  pick  the  3ruit, 
no  matter  how  they  black  their  fingers ;  while  genius, 
proud  and  perpendicular,  strides  fiercely  on,  and  gets 
nothing  but  scratches  and  holes  tore  in  its  trousers. 
These  things  are  the  fate  of  genius,  and  when  you  see 
'em,  there  is  genius  too,  although  the  editors  won't  pub- 
lish its  articles.  These  things  are  its  premonitories,  its 
janissaries,  its  cohorts,  and  its  consorts. 

"  But  yet,  though  in  flames  in  my  interiors,  I  can't 
get  it  out.  If  I  catch  a  subject,  while  I  am  looking  at  it, 
I  can't  find  words  to  put  it  in ;  and  when  I  let  go,  to  hunt 
for  words,  the  subject  is  off  like  a  shot.  Sometimes  1 
have  plenty  of  words,  but  then  there  is  either  no  ideas, 
or  else  there  is  such  a  waterworks  and  cataract  of  them, 
that  when  I  catch  one,  the  others  knock  it  out  of  my 
fingers.  My  genius  is  good,  but  my  mind  is  not  suffi- 
ciently manured  by  'ears." 

Pigwiggen,  waiting  it  may  be  till  sufficiently  "  ma- 
nured" to  note  his  thoughts,  was  seen  one  fine  morning 
not  long  since,  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  with  a  me- 
lancholy, abstracted  air,  the  general  character  of  his 
appearance.  His  garments  were  of  a  rusty  black,  much 
the  worse  for  wear.  His  coat  was  buttoned  up  to  the 
throat,  probably  for  a  reason  more  cogent  than  that  of 
showing  the  moulding  of  his  chest,  and  a  black  hand 
kerchief  enveloped  his  neck.  Not  a  particle  of  white 
was  to  be  seen  about  him  ;  not  that  we  mean  to  infer 
timt  his  "  sark"  would  not  have  answered  to  its  name,  if 
th«  muster  roll  of  his  attire  had  been  called,  for  we  scorn 
to  speak  of  a  citizen's  domestic  relations,  and,  until  the 


UNDEVELOPED     GENIUS.  57 

coutiary  is  proved,  we  hold  it  but  charity  to  believe  that 
every  man  has  as  many  shirts  as  backs.  Peter's  cheeks 
were  pale  and  hollow ;  his  eyes  sunken,  and  neither 
x>ap  nor  razor  had  kissed  his  lips  for  a  week.  His 
hands  were  in  his  pockets — they  had  the  accommodation 
all  to  themselves — nothing  else  was  there. 

"  Is  your  name  Peter  P.  Pigwiggen  ?"  inquired  a 
man,  with  a  stick,  which  he  grasped  in  the  middle. 

"  My  name  is  P  Pilgarlick  Pigwiggen,  if  you  please, 
my  good  friend,"  replied  our  hero,  with  a  flush  of  indig- 
nation at  being  miscalled. 

"  You'll  do,"  was  the  nonchalant  response  ;  and  "  the 
man  with  a  stick"  drew  forth  a  parallelogram  of  paper, 
curiously  inscribed  with  characters,  partly  written  and 
partly  printed,  of  which  the  words,  "  The  commonwealth 
greeting,"  were  strikingly  visible ;  "  you'll  do,  Mr.  P. 
Pilgarlick  Pigwiggen  Peter.  That's  a  capias  ad  respon- 
denduin,  the  English  of  which  is,  you're  cotched  because 
you  can't  pay ;  only  they  put  it  in  Greek,  so's  not  to 
hurt  a  gentleman's  feelings,  and  make  him  feel  flat  afore 
the  company.  I  can't  say  much  for  the  manners  of  the 
big  courts,  but  the  way  the  law's  polite  and  a  squire's 
office  is  genteel,  when  the  thing  is  under  a  hundred 
dollars,  is  cautionary." 

There  was  little  to  be  said.  Peter  yielded  at  or>  ee 
His  landlady,  with  little  respect  for  the  incipient  Byron, 
had  turned  him  out  that  morning,  and  had  likewise  sent 
"  the  man  with  a  stick"  to  arrest  the  course  of  undeve- 
loped genius.  Peter  walked  before,  and  he  of  the  "  taking 
way"  strolled  leisurely  behind. 

*  *  #  *  #  * 

"  It's  the  fate  of  genius,  squire.  The  money  is  owed. 
\Jut  how  can  I  help  i<,  ?  I  can't  live  without  eating  and 


58  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

sleeping  If  I  wasn't  to  do  those  functionaries,  it  would 
be  suicide,  severe  beyond  circumfiexion." 

"  Well,  you  know,  you  must  either  pay  or  go  to  jail." 
'  Now,  squire,  as  a  friend — I  can't  pay,  and  I  don't 
admire  jail — as  a  friend,  now." 

"  Got  any  bail  ? — No ! — what's  your  trade — what  name 
sit?" 

"  Poesy,"  was  the  laconic,  but  dignified  reply. 

"Pusey? — Yes,  I  remember  Pusey.  You're  in  the 
shoe-cleaning  line,  somewhere  in  Fourth  street.  Pusey, 
ooots  and  shoes  cleaned  here.  Getting  whiter,  ar'n't 
you  ?  I  thought  Pusey  was  a  little  darker  in  the  counte- 
nance." 

"  P-o-e-s-y  !"  roared  Peter,  spelling  the  word  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  ;  "  I'm  a  poet." 

"  Well,  Posy,  I  suppose  you  don't  write  for  nothing. 
Why  didn't  you  pay  your  landlady  out  of  what  you 
received  for  your  books,  Posy  ?" 

"  My  genius  ain't  developed.  I  haven't  written  any 
thing  yet.  Only  wait  till  my  mind  is  manured,  so  I  can 
catch  the  idea,  and  I'll  pay  off  all  old  scores." 

"  'Twont  do,  Posy.  I  don't  understand  it  at  all. 
You  must  go  and  find  a  little  undeveloped  bail,  or  I 
must  send  you  to  prison.  The  officer  will  go  with  you. 
But  stay ;  there's  Mr.  Grubson  in  the  corner — perhaps 
he  will  bail  you." 

Grubson  looked  unpromising.  He  had  fallen  asleep, 
and  the  flies  hummed  about  his  sulky  copper-coloured 
visage,  laughing  at  his  unconscious  drowsy  efforts  to 
drive  them  away.  He  was  aroused  by  Pilgarlick,  who 
nsinuatingly  preferred  the  request. 

"  I'll  see  you  hanged  first,"  replied  Mr.  Grubson  ;  "  I 
goes  bail  for  nobody.  I'm  undeveloped  myself  on  tha; 


UNDEVELOPED     GENIUS.  59 

suoject, — not  but  that  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  you 
in  the  world,  but  the  most  of  people's  cheats." 

"  You  see,  Posy,  the  development  won't  answer 
You  must  try  out  of  doors.  The  officer  will  go  with 
you." 

"  Squire,  as  a  friend,  excuse  me,"  said  Pilgarlick. 
"  But  the  truth  of  the  matter  is  this.  I'm  delicate  about 
being  seen  in  the  street  with  a  constable.  I'm  principled 
against  it.  The  reputation  which  I'm  going  to  get  might 
be  injured  by  it.  Wouldn't  it  be  pretty  much  the  same 
thing,  if  Mr.  Grubson  was  to  go  with  the  officer,  and  get 
me  a  little  bail  ?" 

"  I'm  delicate  myself,"  growled  Grubson ;  "  I'm  prin- 
cipled agin  that  too.  Every  man  walk  about  on  his  own 
'sponsibility  ;  every  man  bail  his  own  boat.  You  mighl 
jist  as  well  ask  me  to  swallow  your  physic,  or  take  your 
thrashings." 

Alas  !  Pilgarlick  knew  that  his  boat  was  past  bailing. 
Few  are  the  friends  of  genius  in  any  of  its  stages — very 
few  are  they  when  it  is  undeveloped.  He,  therefore, 
consented  to  sojourn  in  "Arch  west  of  Broad,"  until  the 
whitewashing  process  could  be  performed,  on  condition 
he  were  taken  there  by  the  "  alley  way ;"  for  he  still 
looks  ahead  to  the  day,  when  a  hot-pressed  volume  shall 
be  published  by  the  leading  booksellers,  entitled  Poems, 
by  P.  Pilgarlick  Pigwiggen,  Esq. 


THE  BEST-NATURED  MAN  IN  THE 
WORLD. 


A  YIELDING  temper,  when  not  carefully  watched  and 
curbed,  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous  of  faults.  Like  un- 
regulated generosity,  it  is  apt  to  carry  its  owner  into  a 
thousand  difficulties,  and,  too  frequently,  to  hurry  him 
into  vices,  if  not  into  crimes.  But  as  it  is  of  advantage 
to  others  while  inflicting  injury  upon  its  possessor,  it 
has,  by  the  common  consent  of  mankind,  received  a  fine 
name,  which  covers  its  follies  and  promotes  its  growth. 
This  easiness  of  disposition,  which  is  a  compound  of  in- 
dolence, vanity,  and  irresolution,  is  known  and  applauded 
as  "  good-nature;"  and,  to  have  reached  the  superlative 
degree,  so  as  to  be  called  the  "  best-natured  fellow  in  the 
world — almost  too  good-natured  for  his  own  good,"  is 
regarded  as  a  lofty  merit.  When  applied  to  the  proper 
person,  though  the  recipient  says  nothing,  it  may  be 
seen  that  it  thrills  him  with  delight ;  the  colour  height- 
ens on  his  cheek  ;  and  the  humid  brilliance  of  his  eye 
speaks  him  ready  to  weep  with  joy  over  his  own  fancied 
perfections,  and  to  outdo  all  his  former  outdoings.  He 
is  warmed  through  by  the  phrase,  as  if  he  had  been  feast- 
.'ng  upon  preserved  ginger,  and  he  luxuriates  upon  the 
sensation,  without  counting- the  cost,  and  without  calcu- 
lating the  future  sacrifices  which  it  requires.  He  seldom 
sees  why  he  is  thus  praised.  He  is  content  that  it  is  so, 


THE    BEST-NATURED    MAN    IN    THE    WORLD.  61 

*  without  inquiring  into  the  process  by  which  it  was 
brought  about.  It  is  enough  for  him  that  he  is  the  best- 
natured  fellow  in  the  world,  and  the  conclusion  generally 
shows  that,  in  phrase  pugilistic,  it  is  "enough."  There 
are  few  kinds  of  extravagance  more  ruinous  than  that  of 
indulging  a  desire  for  being  excessively  good-natured,  as 
the  good-natured  pussy  learnt  when  the  monkey  used  her 
paw  to  draw  chestnuts  from  the  fire.  A  man  of  circum- 
scribed means  may,  with  comparative  safety,  keep  horses 
and  dogs,  drink  Champagne  and  Burgundy  bet  upon 
races  and  upon  cock-fights  ;  he  may  even  gratify  a  taste 
for  being  very  genteel — for  these  things  may  subside  into 
moderation  ;  but  being  very  good-natured,  in  the  popular 
acception  of  the  phrase,  is  like  the  juvenile  amusemen* 
of  sliding  down  Market  street  hill  on  a  sled.  The  further 
one  goes,  the  greater  is  the  velocity ;  and,  if  the  momen- 
tum be  not  skilfully  checked,  we  are  likely  to  land  in  the 
water. 

The  "  best-natured  fellow  in  the  world"  is  merely 
a  convenience  ;  very  useful  to  others,  but  worse  than 
useless  to  himself.  He  is  the  bridge  across  the  brook, 
and  men  walk  over  him.  He  is  the  wandering  pony  of 
the  Pampas,  seeking  his  own  provender,  yet  ridden  by 
those  who  contribute  not  to  his  support.  He  giveth  up 
all  the  sunshine,  and  hath  nothing  but  chilling  shade  for 
himself.  He  waiteth  at  the  table  of  the  world,  serveth 
the  guests,  who  clear  the  board,  and,  for  food  and  pay, 
give  him  fine  words,  which  culinary  research  hath  long 
since  ascertained  cannot  be  used  with  profit,  even  in  the 
buttering  of  parsnips.  He  is,  in  fact,  an  appendage,  not 
an  individuality ;  and  when  worn  out,  as  he  soon  must 
be,  is  thrown  aside  to  make  room  for  another,  if  another 
can  be  had.  Such  is  the  result  of  excessive  compliance 
and  obsequious  good-nature.  It  plundereth  a  man  of  1m 


62  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

spine,  and  converteth  him  into  a  flexile  willow,  to  be 
bent  and  twisted  as  his  companions  choose,  and,  should 
it  please  them,  to  be  wreathed  into  a  fish-basket. 

Are  there  any  who  doubt  of  this  ?  Let  them  inquire 
for  one  LENITER  SALIX,  and  ask  his  opinion.  Leniter 
may  be  ragged,  but  his  philosophy  has  not  so  many 
holes  in  it  as  might  be  inferred  from  the  state  of  his 
wardrobe.  Nay,  it  is  the  more  perfect  on  that  account : 
a  knowledge  of  the  world  penetrates  the  more  easily 
when,  from  defective  apparel,  we  approach  the  nearer 
to  our  original  selves.  Leniter's  hat  is  crownless,  and 
the  clear  light  of  knowledge  streams  without  impediment 
upon  his  brain.  He  is  not  bound  up  in  the^ strait  jacket 
of  prejudice,  for  he  long  since  pawned  his  solitary  vest, 
and  his  coat,  made  for  a  Goliath,  hangs  about  him  as 
loosely  as  a  politician's  principles,  or  as  the  purser's  shirt 
in  the  poetical  comparison.  Salix  has  so  long  bumped 
hie  head  against  a  stone  wall,  that  he  has  knocked  a  hole 
in  it,  and  like  Cooke,  the  tragedian,  sees  through  his 
error.  He  has  speculated  as  extensively  in  experience 
as  if  it  were  town  lots.  The  quantity  of  that  article  he 
has  purchased,  could  it  be  made  tangible,  would  freight 
a  seventy-four; — were  it  convertible  into  cash,  Croesus, 
King  of  Lydia,  son  of  Halyattes,  would  be  a  Chelsea 
pensioner  to  Salix.  But  unluckily  for  hinj,  there  are 
stages  in  life  when  experience  itself  is  more  ornamental 
than  useful.  When,  to  use  a  forcible  expression — when, 
a  man  is  "  done," — it  matters  not  whether  he  has  as  much 
experience  as  Samson  had  hair,  or  as  Bergami  had  whis- 
ker— he  can  do  no  more.  Salix  has  been  in  his  time  so 
much  pestered  with  duns,  "  hateful  to  gods  and  men,' 
that  he  is  done  himself. 

"  The  sun  was  rushing  down  the  west,"  as  Banim 
has  it,  attending  to  its  own  business,  and,  by  that  means, 


THE    BEST-NATURED    MAN    IN    THE    WORLD.  63 

shedding  benefit  upon  the  world,  when  Leniter  Salix 
was  seen  in  front  of  a  little  grocery,  the  locale  of  which 
shall  be  nameless,  sitting  dejectedly  upon  a  keg  of  mack- 
erel, number  2.  He  had  been  "  the  best-natured  fellow 
in  the  world,"  but,  as  the  geologists  say,  he  was  in  a 
state  of  transition,  and  was  rapidly  becoming  up  to  trap 
At  all  events,  he  had  his  nose  to  the  grindstone,  an  ope- 
ration which  should  make  men  keen.  He  was  house- 
less, homeless,  penniless,  and  the  grocery  man  had  asked 
him  to  keep  an  eye  upon  the  dog,  for  fear  of  the  mid- 
summer catastrophe  which  awaits  such  animals  when  their 
snouts  are  not  in  a  bird  cage.  This  service  was  to  be 
recompensed  with  a  cracker,  and  a  glass  of  what  the 
shopman  was  pleased  to  call  racky  mirackilis,  a  fluid 
sometimes  termed  "  railroad,"  from  the  rapidity  with 
which  it  hurries  men  to  the  end  of  their  journey.  Like 
many  of  the  best-natured  fellows  in  the  world,  Salix,  by 
way  of  being  a  capital  companion,  and  of  not  being  differ- 
ent from  others,  had  acquired  rather  a  partiality  for  riding 
on  this  "  railroad,"  and  he  agreed  to  keep  his  trigger  eye 
on  the  dog. 

"That's  right,  Salix.  I  always  knowcd  you  were  the 
best-natured  fellow  in  the  world." 

"  H-u-m-p-s-e !"  sighed  Salix,  in  a  prolonged,  plain- 
.ve,  uncertain  manner,  as  if  he  admitted  the  fact,  but 
doubted  the  honour;  "  h-u-m-p-s-e  !  but,  if  it  wasn't  for 
the  railroad,  which  is  good  for  my  complaint,  because  I 
take  it  internally  to  drive  out  the  perspiration,  I've  a  sort 
of  a  notion  Carlo  might  take  care  of  himself.  There's 
the  dog  playing  about  without  his  muzzle,  just  because 
I'm  good-natured ;  there's  Timpkins  at  work  making 
money  inside,  instead  of  watching  his  own  whelp,  just 
because  I'm  good-natured ;  and  I'm  to  sit  here  doing 
nothing  instead  of  going  to  get  a  little  job  a  man  promised 


64  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES 

me  down  towr.,  just  because  I'm  good-natured.  I  can't 
see  exactly  what's  the  use  of  it  to  me.  It's  pretty  much 
like  having  a  bed  of  your  own,  and  letting  other  people 
sleep  in  it,  soft,  while  you  sleep  on  the  bare  floor,  hard. 
It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  if  you  could  have  half,  or  quarter 
of  the  bed ;  but  no — these  good  friends  of  mine,  as  I 
may  say,  turn  in,  take  it  all,  roll  themselves  up  in  the 
kivering,  and  won't  let  us  have  a  bit  of  sheet  to  mollify 
the  white  pine  sacking  bottom,  the  which  is  pleasant  to 
whittle  with  a  sharp  knife — quite  soft  enough  for  that 
purpose — but  the  which  is  not  the  pink  of  feather  beds. 
I  don't  like  it — I'm  getting  tired." 

The  brow  of  Salix  began  to  blacken — therein  having 
decidedly  the  advantage  of  his  boots,  which  could  nei- 
ther blacken  themselves,  nor  prevail  on  their  master  to  do 
it — when  Mrs.  Timpkins,  the  shopman's  wife,  popped 
out  with  a  child  in  her  arms,  and  three  more  trapesing 
after  her. 

"  Law,  Salix,  how-dee-doo  ?  I'm  so  glad — I  know 
you're  the  best-natured  creature  in  the  world.  Jist  hold 
litile  Biddy  a  while,  and  keep  an  eye  on  t'other  young 
'uns — you're  such  a  nurse — he  !  he  !  he  ! — so  busy — 
ain't  got  no  girl — so  busy  washing — most  tea  time- 
he !  he!  he!  Salix." 

Mrs.  Timpkins  disappeared,  Biddy  remained  in  the 
arms  of  Salix,  and  "  t'other  young  'uns"  raced  about 
with  the  dog.  The  trigger  eye  was  compelled  to  invoke 
the  aid  of  its  coadjutor. 

"  Whew!"  whistled  Salix;  "the  quantity  of  pork 
they  give  in  this  part  of  the  town  for  a  shilling  is  ama- 
zin' — I'm  so  good-natured  !  That  railroad  will  be  well 
earnt,  anyhow.  I'm  beginning  to  think  it's  queer  there 
ain't  more  good-natured  people  about  besides  me — I'm 
a  sort  of  mayor  and  corporation  all  myself  in  this  busi- 


THE    BEST-XATURED    MAN    IN    THE    WORLD.  65 

ness.  It's  a  monopoly  where  the  profit's  all  loss.  Now, 
for  instance,  these  Timpkinses  won't  ask  me  to  tea,  be- 
cause I'm  ragged  ;  but  they  ar'n't  a  bit  too  proud  to  ask 
me  to  play  child's  nurse  and  dog's  uncle — they  won't 
lend  me  any  money,  because  I  can't  pay,  and  they' re  per- 
eimmony  and  sour  about  cash  concerns — and  they  won't 
let  me  have  time  to  earn  any  money,  and  get  good 
clothes — that's  because  I'm  so  good-natur%d.  I've  a  good 
mind  to  strike,  and  be  sassy." 

"  Hallo  !  Salix,  my  good  fellow  !"  said  a  man,  (in  a 
horse,  as  he  rode  up  ;  "  you're  the  very  chap  I'm  looking 
for.  As  I  says  to  my  old  woman,  says  I,  Leniter  Salix 
is  the  wholesoul'destchap  I  ever  did  see.  There's  nothing 
he  won't  do  for  a  friend,  and  I'll  never  forget  him,  if  1 
was  to  live  as  old  as  Methuselah." 

Salix  smiled — Hannibal  softened  rocks  with  vinegar, 
but  the  stranger  melted  the  ice  of  our  hero's  resolution 
with  praise.  Salix  walked  towards  him,  holding  the  child 
with  one  hand  as  he  extended  the  other  for  a  friendly 
shake. 

"  You're  the  best-natured  fellow  in  the  world,  Salix," 
ejaculated  the  stranger,  as  he  leaped  from  the  saddle, 
and  hung  the  reins  upon  Salix's  extended  fingers,  in- 
stead of  shaking  hands  with  him  ;  "  you're  the  best- 
natured  fellow  in  the  world.  Just  hold  my  horse  a  mi- 
nute. I'll  be  back  in  a  jiffey,  Salix  ;  in  less  than  half  an 
hour,"  said  the  dismounted  rider,  as  he  shot  round  the 
corner. 

"  If  that  ain't  cutting  it  fat,  I'll  be  darned!"  growled 
Salix,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  from  his  breathless 
amazement,  and  had  gazed  from  dog  to  babe — from  horse 
to  children. 

"  Mr.  Salix,"  screamed  Miss  Tabitha  Gadabout  from 
the  next  house,  "  I'm  just  running  over  to  Timpson's 
135 


06  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

place.  Keep  an  eye  on  my  street  door — back  in  » 
minute." 

She  flew  across  the  street,  and  as  she  went,  tl.« 
words  "best  natured-soul  alive"  were  heard  upon  tho 
breeze. 

"  That's  considerable  fatter — it's  as  fat  as  show  beef," 
saiJl  Salix.  "  How  many  eyes  has  a  good-natured  fellow 
got,  anyhow  f  Three  of  mine's  in  use  a'ready.  The 
good-natureder  you  are,  the  more  eyes  you  have,  I  s'pose. 
That  job  up  town's  jobbed  without  me,  and  where  I'm 
to  sleep,  or  to  eat  my  supper,  it's  not  the  easiest  thing 
in  the  world  to  tell.  Ain't  paid  my  board  this  six  months, 
I'm  so  good-natured ;  and  the  old  woman's  so  good- 
natured,  she  said  I  needn't  come  back.  These  Timp- 
kinses  and  all  of  'em  are  ready  enough  at  asking  me 

to  do  things,  but  when  I  ask  them There,  that  dog's 

off,  and  th,e  ketchers  are  coming — Carlo  !  Carlo  !" 

The  baby  began  squalling,  and  the  horse  grew  restive  , 
the  dog  scampered  into  the  very  teeth  of  danger  ;  and  the 
three  little  Timpkinses,  who  could  locomote,  went 
scrabbling,  in  different  directions,  into  all  sorts  of  mischief, 
until  finally  one  of  them  pitched  head  .foremost  into  a 
cellar. 

Salix  grew  furious.  "  Whoa,  pony ! — hush,  you  infer- 
nal brat! — here,  Carlo! — Thunder  and  crockery  ! — there's 
a  young  Timpkins  smashed  and  spoilt ! — knocked  into  a 
cocked  hat !" 

"  Mr.  Salix  !"  shouted  a  boy,  from  the  other  side  of 
the  way,  "  when  you're  done  that  'ere,  mammy  says 
if  you  won't  go  a  little  narrand  for  her,  you're  so  good- 
nater'd." 

There  are  moments  when  calamity  nerves  us  ;  when 
wild  frenzy  congeals  into  calm  resolve  ;  as  one  may  see 
oy  penning  a  cat  in  a  corner.  It  is  then  that  the  coward 


There!  that  dos's  off,  a:i  I  the  ketj'.t-rs  are  comin"— J  ulo:  Cuilo!"— r«<je.  66. 


THE    BEST-NATURED    MAN    IN    THE    WORLD.  67 

fights ;  that  the  oppressed  strikes  at  the  life  of  the  oppres- 
sor. That  moment  had  come  to  Salix.  He  stood  bolt 
upright,  as  cold  and  as  straight  as  an  icicle.  His  good- 
nature might  be  seen  to  drop  from  him  in  two  pieces, 
like  Cinderella's  kitchen  garments  in  the  opera.  He 
laid  Biddy  Timpkins  on  the  top  of  the  barrel,  released 
the  horse,  giving  him  a  vigorous  kick,  which  sent  him 
flying  down  the  street,  and  strode  indignantly  away, 
leaving  Carlo,  Miss  Gadabout's  house,  and  all  other 
matters  in  his  charge,  to  the  guardianship  of  chance. 
****** 

The  last  time  Salix  was  seen  in  the  busy  haunts  of 
men,  he  looked  the  very  incarnation  of  gloom  and  de- 
spair. His  very  coat  had  gone  to  relieve  his  necessities, 
and  he  wandered  slowly  and  dejectedly  about,  relieving 
the  workings  of  his  perturbed  spirit  by  kicking  whatever 
fell  in  his  way. 

"  I'm  done,"  soliloquized  he  ;  "  pardenership  between 
me  and  good-nature  is  this  day  dissolved,  and  all  persons 
.'ndebted  will  please  to  settle  with  the  undersigned,  who 
alone  is  authorized.  Yes,  there's  a  good  many  indebted, 
and  its  high  time  to  dissolve,  when  your  pardener  has  sold 
all  the  goods  and  spent  all  the  money.  Once  I  had  a 
little  shop — ah!  wasn't  it  nice? — plenty  of  goods  and 
plenty  of  business.  But  then  comes  one  troop  of  fellows, 
and  they  wanted  tick — I'm  so  good-natured  ;  then  comes 
another  set  of  chaps,  who  didn't  let  bashfulness  stand  in 
their  way  a  minute ;  they  sailed  a  good  deal  nearer  the 
wind,  and  wanted  to  borry  money — I'm  so  good-natured ; 
and  more  asked  me  to  go  security.  These  fellows  were 
always  very  particular  friends  of  mine,  and  got  what 
they  asked  for ;  but  I  was  a  very  particular  friend  of 
theirs,  and  couldn't  get  it  back.  It  was  one  of  the 
pood  rules  that  won't  work  both  ways  ;  and  I,  somehow 


68  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

or  other,  was  at  the  wrong  end  of  it,  for  it  wouldn't 
work  my  way  at  all.  There's  few  rules  that  will,  bar- 
ring substraction,  and  division,  and  alligation,  when  our 
folks  allegated  against  me  that  I  wouldn't  come  tb  no 
good.  All  the  cypherin'  I  could  ever  do  made  more 
come  to  little,  and  little  come  to  less  ;  and  yet,  as  I  said 
afore,  I  had  a  good  many  assistants  too. 

"Business  kept  pretty  fair;  but  I  wasn't  cured. 
Because  I  was  good-natured,  I  had  to  go  with  'em  fro- 
licking, tea  partying,  excursioning,  and  busting  ;  and  for 
the  same  reason,  I  was  always  appinted  treasurer  to 
make  the  distribution  when  there  wasn't  a  cent  of  sur- 
plus revenue  in  the  treasury,  but  my  own.  It  was  my 
job  to  pay  all  the  bills.  Yes,  it  was  always  '  Salix,  you 
know  me' — '  Salix,  pony  up  at  the  bar,  and  lend  us  a 
levy' — '  Salix  always  shells  out  like  a  gentleman.' — Oh  ! 
to  be  sure,  and  why  not  ? — now  I'm  shelled  out  myself— 
first  out  of  my  shop  by  old  venditioni  exponas,  at  the 
State  House — old  fiery  fash  '#s  to  me  directed.  But 
they  didn't  direct  him  soon  enough,  for  he  only  got  the 
fixtures.  The  goods  had  gone  out  on  a  bust  long  before 
I  busted.  Next,  I  was  shelled  out  of  my  boarding 
house ;  and  now,"  (with  a  lugubrious  glance  at  his  shirt 
and  pantaloons,)  "  I'm  nearly  shelled  out  of  my  clothes. 
It's  a  good  thing  they  can't  easy  shell  me  out  of  my 
skin,  or  they  would,  and  let  me  catch  my  death  of  cold. 
I'm  a  mere  shell-fish — an  oyster  with  the  kivers  off. 

"  But,  it  was  always  so — when  I  was  a  little  boy, 
they  coaxed  all  my  pennies  out  of  me ;  coaxed  me  to 
take  all  the  jawings,  and  all  the  hidings,  and  to  go  first 
into  all  sorts  of  scrapes,  and  precious  scrapings  they 
used  to  be.  I  wonder  if  there  isn't  two  kinds  of  people — 
one  kind  that's  made  to  chaw  up  t'other  kind,  and  t'other 
kind  that's  made  to  be  chawed  up  by  one  kind? — cat- 


THE    BEST-NATURED    MAN    IN    THE    WORLD.  69 

Kind  of  people  and  mouse-kind  of  people  ?    I  guess  there 
is — I'm  very  much  mouse  myself. 

"  What  I  want  to  know  is  what's  to  become  of  me. 
I've  spent  all  I  had  in  getting  my  eddication.  Learnin', 
they  say,  is  better  than  houses  and  lands.  I  wonder  if 
anybody  would  swap  some  house  and  land  with  me  for 
mine  ?  I'd  go  it  even,  and  ask  no  boot.  They  should 
have  it  at  prime  cost ;  but  they  won't ;  and  I  begin  to  be 
afraid  I'll  have  to  get  married,  or  list  in  the  marines. 
That's  what  most  people  do  when  they've  nothing  to 
do." 

*  *         *  *  *  *  * 

What  became  of  Leniter  Salix  immediately,  is  imma- 
terial ;  what  will  become  of  him  eventually,  is  clear 
enough.  His  story  is  one  acting  every  day,  and,  thougn 
grotesquely  sketched,  is  an  evidence  of  the  danger  of  an 
accommodating  disposition  when  not  regulated  by  pru- 
dence. The  softness  of  "the  best-natured  fellow  in  the 
world"  requires  a  large  admixture  of  hardening  alloy  to 
give  it  the  proper  temper. 


(70) 

A   PAIR   OF   SLIPPERS; 

OR,  FALLING  WEATHER. 


"  Then  I,  and  you,  and  all  ofus  fell  down." 

WHENEVER  we  look  upon  the  crowded  thoroughfare, 
or  regard  the  large  assembly,  we  are  compelled  to  admit 
that  the  infinite  variety  of  form  in  the  human  race  contri- 
butes largely  to  the  picturesque.  The  eye  travels  over 
the  diversity  of  shape  and  size  without  fatigue,  and  re- 
news its  strength  by  turning  from  one  figure  to  another, 
when,  at  each  remove,  it  is  sure  to  find  a  difference. 
Satiated  with  gazing  at  rotundity,  it  is  refreshed  by  a 
glance  at  lathiness ;  and,  tired  with  stooping  to  the  lowly, 
it  can  mount  like  a  bird  to  the  aspiring  head  which  tops 
a  maypole.  But,  while  the  potency  of  these  pictorial 
beauties  is  admitted,  it  must  be  conceded  that  the  varia- 
tions from  the  true  standard,  although  good  for  the  eye- 
sight, are  productive  of  much  inconvenience ;  and  that,  to 
consider  the  subject  like  a  Benthamite,  utility  and  the 
general  advantage  would  be  promoted  if  the  total  amount 
of  flesh,  blood,  bone,  and  muscle  were  more  equally  dis- 
tributed. As  affairs  are  at  present  arranged,  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  find  a  "  ready  made  coat"  that  will  answer 
one's  purpose,  and  a  man  may  stroll  through  half  the 
shops  in  town  without  being  able  to  purchase  a  pair  of 
bmfs  which  he  can  wear  with  any  decree  of  comfort.  Tn 


A    PAIR    OF    SLIPPERS.  71 

hanging  a  lamp,  every  shop  keeper,  who  "  lights  up," 
knows  that  it  is  a  very  trouble?sme  matter  so  to  swing 
it,  that,  while  the  short  can  see  the  commodities,  the  tall 
will  not  demolish  the  glass.  If  an  abbreviated  "  turnippy" 
man,  in  the  goodness  of  his  heart  and  in  articulo  mortis, 
bequeaths  his  wardrobe  to  a  long  and  gaunt  friend,  of 
what  service  is  the  posthumous  present?  It  is  available 
merely  as  new  clothing  for  the  juveniles,  or  as  something 
toward  another  kitchen  carpet.  Many  a  martial  spirit  is 
obliged  to  content  himself  with  civic  employment,  al- 
though a  mere  bottle  of  fire  and  wrath,  because  heroism 
is  enlisted  by  inches,  and  not  by  degree.  If  under  "  five 
foot  six,"  Caesar  himself  could  find  no  favour  in  the  eye 
of  the  recruiting  sergeant,  and  Alexander  the  Great 
would  be  allowed  to  bestride  no  Bucephalus  in  a  dragoon 
regiment  of  modern  times.  Thus,  both  they  who  get  too 
much,  and  they  who  get  too  little,  in  Dame  Nature's  ap- 
portionment bill,  as  well  as  those  who,  though  abundantly 
endowed,  are  not  well  made  up,  have  divers  reasons  for 
grumbling,  and  for  wishing  that  a  more  perfect  uniformity 
prevailed. 

Some  of  the  troubles  which  arise  from  giving  a  man 
more  than  his  share  in  altitude,  find  illustration  in  the 
subjoined  narrative : — 

Linkum  Langcale  is  a  subject  in  extenso.  He  is,  to 
use  the  words  of  the  poet,  suggested  by  his  name, 

"  A  bout" 

"  Of  linked  sweetness  long  draivn  out  .•" 

and,  in  speaking  of  him,  it  is  not  easy  to  be  brief.  Li* 
kum  is  entirely  too  long  for  his  own  comfort — something 
short — if  the  word  short  may  be  used  in  this  connexion 
— something  short  of  the  height  of  the  Titans  of  old,  who 
pelted  Saturn  with  brickbats  ;  but  how  much  has  never 


72  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

yet  been  ascertained,  none  of  his  acquaintances  being 
sufficiently  acquainted  with  trigonometry  to  determine 
the  fact.  He  is  one  of  those  men  who,  like  the  gentle 
Marcia,  "  tower  above  their  sex,"  and  must  always  be 
called  down  to  their  dinner,  as  no  information  can  be 
imparted  to  them  unless  it  be  hallooed  up  ;  and  in  con- 
versing with  whom,  it  is  always  necessary  to  begin  by 
hailing  the  maintop.  There  is  not,  however,  more 
material  in  Linkum  than  enough  for  a  man  of  ordinary 
length.  The  fault  is  in  his  not  being  properly  made  up. 
He  is  abominably  wire  drawn — stretched  out,  as  Shak- 
speare  says,  almost  to  the  crack  of  doom.  It  is  clear 
that  there  has  been  an  attempt  to  make  too  much  of 
him,  but  the  frame  of  the  idea  has  not  been  well  filled 
out.  He  is  the  streak  of  a  Colossus,  and  he  resembles 
the  willow  wand  at  which  Locksley  shot  his  gray  goose 
shaft  in  the  lists  of  Ashby  de  la  Zouche.  The  conse- 
quence is,  that  Linkum  is  a  crank  vessel.  If  he  wore  a 
feather  in  his  cap,  he  would  be  capsized  at  every  corner ; 
and  as  it  is,  he  finds  it  very  difficult  to  get  along  on  a 
windy  day,  without  a  paving  stone  in  each  coat  pocket 
to  preserve  the  balance  of  power.  He  is,  however,  of  a 
convivial  nature,  and  will  not  refuse  his  glass,  notwith- 
standing the  aptitude  of  alcohol  to  ascend  into  the  brain, 
and  so  to  encumber  it  as  to  render  a  perpendicular 
position  troublesome  to  men  shorter  than  himself.  When 
in  this  condition,  his  troubles  are  numberless,  and  among 
other  matters,  he  finds  it  very  difficult  to  get  a  clear  fall, 
there  being  in  compact  cities  very  little  room  to  spare 
for  the  accommodation  of  long  men  tumbling  down  in 
he  world. 

One^  evening  Linkum  walked  forth  to  a  convivial 
meeting,  and  supped  with  a  set  of  jolly  companions 
f/ate  at  night  a  rain  came  on,  which  froze  as  it  fell,  and 


A    PAIR   OF    SLIPPERS.  73 

S,*MI  made  the  city  one  universal  slide,  sufficiently 
"  glip"  for  all  purposes,  without  the  aid  of  saw-dust. 
Of  Linkum's  sayings  and  doings  at  the  social  board,  no 
record  is  preserved ;  but  it  is  inferred  that  his  amuse- 
ments were  not  of  a  nature  to  qualify  him  for  the  safe 
performance  of  a  journey  so  slippery  as  that  which  it 
was  necessary  to  undertake  to  reach  home.  No  lamps 
were  lighted,  they  who  were  abroad  being  under  the 
necessity  of  supposing  the  moonshine,  and  of  seeing 
their  way  as  they  walked,  or  of  gathering  themselves  up 
when  they  fell,  by  the  lantern  of  imagination. 

"  Good  night,  fellers,"  said  Linkum,  at  the  top  of  the 
steps,  as  the  door  closed  after  him.  He  pulled  his  hat 
over  his  eyes  determinedly,  buttoned  his  coat  with 
resolution,  and  sucked  at  his  cigar  with  that  iron  energy 
peculiar  to  men  about  to  set  forth  on  their  way  home  on  a 
cold,  stormy  night.  The  fire  of  the  cigar  reflected  from 
his  nose  was  the  only  illumination  to  be  seen;  and 
Linkum,  putting  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets,  kept 
his  position  on  the  first  step  of  the  six  which  were 
between  him  and  the  pavement. 

"  I've  no  doubt,"  said  he,  as  he  puffed  forth  volumes 
of  smoke,  and  seemed  to  cogitate  deeply — "  I've  not  the 
slightest  doubt  that  this  is  as  beautiful  a  night  as  ever 
was  ;  only  it's  so  dark  you  can't  see  the  pattern  of  it. 
One  night  is  pretty  much  like  another  night  in  the  dark  ; 
but  it's  a  great  advantage  to  a  good  looking  evening,  if 
the  lamps  are  lit,  so  you  can  twig  the  stars  and  the 
moonshine.  The  fact  is.  that  in  this  'ere  city,  we  do 
grow  the  blackest  moons,  and  the  hardest  moons  to  find, 
I  ever  did  see.  Sometimes  I'm  most  disposed  to  send 
the  bellman  after  'em — or  get  a  full  blooded  pinter  to 
pint  'em  out,  while  I  hold  a  candle  to  see  which  way  he 
pints.  It  wouldn't  be  a  bad  notion  on  sich  occasions  to 


74  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

ask  the  man  in  the  steeple  to  ring  which  way  the  moon 
is.  Lamps  is  lamps,  and  moons  is  moons,  in  a  business 
pint  of  view,  but  practically  they  ain't  much  if  the 
wicks  ain't  afire.  When  the  luminaries  are,  as  I  may 
say,  in  the  raw,  it's  bad  for  me.  I  can't  see  the  ground 
as  perforately  as  little  fellers,  and  every  dark  night  I'm 
sure  to  get  a  hyst — either  a  forrerd  hyst,  or  a  backerd 
hyst,  or  some  sort  of  a  hyst — but  more  backerds  than 
forrerds,  'specially  in  winter.  One  of  the  most  unfeel- 
ing tricks  I  know  of,  is  the  way  some  folks  have 
got  of  laughing  out,  yaw-haw !  when  they  see  a  gen- 
tleman ketching  a  riggler  hyst — a  long  gentleman, 
for  instance,  with  his  legs  in  the  air,  and  his  noddle 
splat  down  upon  the  cold  bricks.  A  hyst  of  itself  is 
bad  enough,  without  being  sniggered  at :  first,  your 
sconce  gets  a  crack ;  then,  you  see  all  sorts  of  stars, 
and  have  free  admission  to  the  fireworks ;  then,  you 
scramble  up,  feeling  as  if  you  had  no  head  on  your 
shoulders,  and  as  if  it  wasn't  you,  but  some  confounded 
disagreeable  feller  in  your  clothes ;  yet  the  jacksnipes 
all  grin,  as  if  the  misfortunes  of  human  nature  was  only 
a  poppet  show.  I  wouldn't  mind  it,  if  you  could  get  up 
and  look  as  if  you  didn't  care.  But  a  man  can't  rise, 
after  a  royal  hyst,  without  letting  on  he  feels  flat.  In 
such  cases,  however,  sympathy  is  all  gammon ;  and  as 
for  sensibility  of  a  winter's  day,  people  keep  it  all  for 
their  own  noses,  and  can't  be  coaxed  to  retail  it  by  the 
email." 

Linkum  paused  in  his  prophetic  dissertation  upon 
"  hysts" — the  popular  pronunciation,  in  these  parts,  of 
the  word  hoist,  which  is  used — quasi  lucus  a  non 
lucendo — to  convey  the  idea  of  the  most  complete  tum- 
ble which  man  can  experience.  A  fall,  for  instance,  is 
indeterminate.  It  may  be  an  easy  slip  down — a  gentle 


A    PAIR    OF    SLIPPERS.  75 

visitation  of  mother  earth  ;  but  a  hyst  is  a  rapid,  forcible 
performance,  which  may  be  done,  as  Linkum  observes, 
either  backward  or  forward,  but  of  necessity  with  such 
violence  as  to  knock  the  breath  out  of  the  body,  or  it  is 
unworthy  of  the  noble  appellation  of  hyst.  It  is  an  apt, 
but  figurative  mode  of  expression,  and  it  is  often  carried 
still  further  ;  for  people  sometimes  say,  "  lower  him  up, 
and  hyst  him  down." 

Our  hero  held  on  firmly  to  the  railing,  and  peered 
keenly  into  the  darkness,  without  discovering  any  object 
on  which  his  vision  could  rest.  The  gloom  was  sub- 
stantial. It  required  sharper  eyes  than  his  to  bore  a 
hole  in  it.  The  wind  was  up,  and  the  storm  continued 
to  coat  the  steps  and  pavements  with  a  sheet  of  ice. 

"  It's  raining  friz  potatoes,"  observed  Linkum ;  "  I 
feel  'em,  though  I  can't  see  'em,  bumping  the  end  of  my 
nose ;  so  I  must  hurry  home  as  fast  as  I  can." 

Heedless  and  hapless  youth  !  He  made  a  vain  attempt 
to  descend,  but,  slipping,  he  came  in  a  sitting  posture 
upon  the  top  step,  and,  in  that  attitude,  flew  down  like 

lightning bump  !  bump  !  bump  !  The  impetus  he  had 

acquired  prevented  him  from  stopping  on  the  sidewalk, 
notwithstanding  his  convulsive  efforts  to  clutch  the  icy 
bricks,  and  he  skuted  into  the  gutter,  whizzing  over  the 
curbstone,  and  splashing  into  the  water,  like  a  young 
Niagara. 

A  deep  silence  ensued,  broken  solely  by  the  pattering 
of  the  rain  and  the  howling  of  the  wind.  Linkum  was 
an  exhausted  receiver ;  the  hyst  was  perfect,  the  breath 
being  completely  knocked  out  of  him. 

"  Laws-a-massy  !"  at  length  he  panted,  "  ketching" 
breath  at  intervals,  and  twisting  about  as  if  in  pain  ;  "  my 
eyes  !  sich  a  hyst !  Sich  a  quantity  of  hysts  all  in  one  ! 
The  life's  almost  bumped  out  of  me,  and  I'm  jammed 


76  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

up  so  tight,  I  don't  believe  I'm  so  tall  by  six  inches  as  1 
was  before.  I'm  druv'  up  and  clinched,  and  I'll  have  to 
get  tucks  in  my  trousers." 

Linkum  sat  still,  ruminating  on  the  curtailment  of 
his  fair  proportions,  and  made  no  effort  to  rise.  The 
door  soon  opened  again,  and  Mr.  Broad  Brevis  came 
forth,  at  which  a  low,  suppressed  chuckle  was  uttered 
by  Linkum,  as  he  looked  over  his  shoulder,  anticipating 
"  a  quantity  of  hysts  all  in  one"  for  the  new  comer, 
whose  figure,  however, — short  and  stout, — was  much 
better  calculated  for  the  operation  than  Linkum's.  But 
Brevis  seemed  to  suspect  that  the  sliding  was  good,  and 
the  skating  magnificent. 

"  No,  you  don't !"  quoth  he,  as  he  tried  the  step  with 
one  foot,  and  recovered  himself;  "  I  haven't  seen  the 
Alleghany  Portage  and  inclined  planes  for  nothing.  It 
takes  me  to  diminish  the  friction,  and  save  the  wear  and 
tear." 

So  saying,  he  quietly  tucked  up  his  coat  tails,  and 
sitting  down  upon  the  mat,  which  he  grasped  with  both 
hands,  gave  himself  a  gentle  impulse,  crying  "All  aboard !" 
and  slid  slowly  but  majestically  down.  As  he  came  to 
the  plain  sailing  across  the  pavement,  he  twanged  forth 
"  Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tra-a-a  !"  in  excellent  imitation  of  the 
post  horn,  and  brought  up  against  Linkum.  "  Clear  the 
coxirse  for  the  express  mail,  or  I'll  report  you  to  the 
department !"  roared  Brevis,  trumpeting  the  "  alarum," 
so  well  known  to  all  who  have  seen  a  tragedy — "  Tra- 
tretra-ta-ra-tra-a-a !" 

That's  queer  fun,  anyhow,"  said  a  careful  wayfarer, 
turning  the  corner,  with  lantern  in  hand,  and  sock  on 
foot,  who,  after  a  short  parley,  was  induced  to  set  the 
gentlemen  on  their  pins.  First  planting  Brevis  against 
the  pump,  who  sanpf  "  Let  me  lean  on  thee,"  from  lltf 


A    PAIR   OF    SLIPPERS.  77 

Sonnambula,  in  prime  style,  he  undertook  to  lift  up 
Linkura. 

"  Well,"  observed  the  stranger,  "  this  is  a  chap  with- 
out no  end  to  him — he'd  be  pretty  long  a  drowning,  any 
how.  If  there  was  many  more  like  him  in  the  gutters, 
it  would  be  better  to  get  a  windlass,  and  wind  'em  up 
1  never  see'd  a  man  with  so  much  slack.  The  corpora- 
tion ought  to  buy  him,  starch  him  up  stiff,  cut  a  hole  for 
•a  clock  in  his  hat,  and  use  him  for  a  steeple ;  only 
Downing  wouldn't  like  to  trust  himself  on  the  top  of 
*uch  a  ricketty  concern. — Neighbour,  shall  I  fetch  the 
Humane  Society's  apparatus?" 

"  No — I  ain't  drownded,  only  bumped  severe.  The 
curbstones  have  touched  my  feelings.  I'm  all  over  like 
a  map — red,  blue,  and  green." 

"  Now,"  said  their  friendly  assistant,  grinning  at  the 
joke,  and  at  the  recompense  he  had  received  for  the  job, 
"  now,  you  two  hook  on  to  one  another  like  Siameses, 
and  mosey.  You've  only  got  to  tumble  one  a  top  of 
t'other,  and  it  won't  hurt.  Tortle  off — it's  slick  going— 
'specially  if  you're  going  down.  Push  ahead !"  con- 
tinued he,  as  he  hitched  them  together  ;  and  away  they 
went,  a  pair  of  slippers,  arm  in  arm.  Many  were  their 
tumbles  and  many  their  mischances  before  they  reached 
their  selected  resting  place. 

"I  can't  stand  this,"  said  Linkum  to  his  companion, 
as  they  were  slipping  and  falling ;  "  but  it's  mostly  owing 
to  my  being  so  tall.  I  wish  I  was  razee'd,  and  then  it 
wouldn't  happen.  The  awning  posts  almost  knock  the 
head  off  me  ;  I'm  always  tumbling  over  wheelbarrows, 
dogs,  and  children,  because,  if  I  look  down,  I'm  certain 
to  knock  my  noddle  against  something  above.  It's  a  com- 
plete nuisance  to  be  so  tall.  Beds  are  too  short ;  if  you 
go  to  a  tea-fight,  the  people  are  always  tumbling  over 


78  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

your  trotters,  and  breaking  their  noses,  which  is  what 
young  ladies  ain't  partial  to  ;  and  if  you  tipple  too  much 
toddy  of  a  slippery  night — about  as  easy  a  thing  to  do  as 
you'd  wish  to  try — you're  sure  to  get  a  hyst  a  square  long 
— just  such  a  one  as  I've  had.  If  I'd  thought  of  it,  I 
could  have  said  the  multiplication  table  while  I  was  going 
the  figure.  Stumpy  chaps,  such  as  you,  ain't  got  no 
troubles  in  this  world." 

"  That's  all  you  know  about  it,"  puffed  Brevis,  as 
Linkum  alternately  jerked  him  from  his  feet,  and  then 
caused  him  to  slide  in  the  opposite  direction,  with  his 
heels  ploughing  the  ice,  like  a  shaft  horse  holding  back  : 
"  phew  !  That's  all  you  know  about  it — stumpies  have 
troubles." 

"  I  can't  borrow  coats,"  added  Linkum,  soliloquiz- 
ing, "  because  I  don't  like  cuffs  at  the  elbows.  I  can't 
borrow  pants,  because  it  isn't  the  fashion  to  wear  knee- 
breeches,  and  all  my  stockings  are  socks.  I  can't  hide 
when  anybody  owes  me  a  lambasting.  You  can  see  me 
a  mile.  When  I  sit  by  the  fire,  I  can't  get  near  enough 
to  warm  my  body,  without  burning  my  knees  ;  and  in  a 
stage-coach,  there's  no  room  between  the  benches,  and 
the  way  you  get  the  cramp — don't  mention  it." 

"  I  don't  know  nothing  about  all  these  things  ;  but  to 
imagine  I  was  a  tall  chap " 

"  Don't  try ;  you'll  hurt  yourself,  for  it's  a  great  stretch 
of  imagination  for  a  little  feller  to  do  that." 

After  which  amicable  colloquy,  nothing  more  was 
heard  of  them,  except  that,  before  retiring  to  rest,  taey 
chuckled  over  the  idea  that  the  coming  spring  would 
sweat  the  ice  to  death  for  the  annoyance  it  had  caused 
them  But  ever  while  they  live,  will  they  remember 
"  the  night  of  hysts." 


(79) 


INDECISION. 


"  An  obstinate  temper  is  very  disagreeable,  particularly  in  a  wife ; 
a  passionate  one  very  shocking  in  a  child  ;  but  for  one's  own  parti- 
cular comfort,  Heaven  help  the  possessor  of  an  irresolute  one  ! — Its 
day  of  hesitation — its  night  of  repentance — the  mischief  it  does — the 
misery  it  feels  ! — its  proprietor  may  well  say,  '  Nobody  can  tell  what 
I  suffer  but  myself!' " 

WE  know  not  to  whom  the  remarks  above  quoted  are 
to  be  attributed,  but  every  observer  of  human  actions  will 
acquiesce  in  their  justice.  There  are  few  misfortunes 
greater  than  the  possession  of  an  irresolute  mind.  Other 
afflictions  are  temporary  in  their  nature  ;  the  most  inve- 
terate of  chronic  diseases  leaves  the  patient  his  hours  of 
comfort ;  but  he  who  lacks  decision  of  character  must 
cease  to  act  altogether  before  he  can  be  released  from  the 
suffering  it  occasions.  It  is  felt,  whether  the  occasion 
be  great  or  small,  whenever  there  is  more  than  one  method 
of  arriving  at  the  same  end,  and  it  veers  like  a  giroitette 
at  the  aspect  of  alternatives.  One  can  scarcely  go  so  far 
as  the  poet,  who  quaintly  says  : 

"  It  needs  but  this,  be  bold,  bold,  bold; 

'Tis  every  virtue  told — 
Honour  and  truth,  humanity  and  skill, 
The  noblest  charity  the  mind  can  wilL" 

But  the  lines  are  pregnant  with  meaning.  The  curse  Oi 
nidecision  impedes  the  growth  of  virtue,  and  renders  our 
best  powers  comparatively  inoperative. 


80  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

It  would  certainly  be  the  parent  of  interminable  con« 
fusion  if  all  men  were  qualified  to  lead  in  the  affairs  of 
the  world.  The  impulse  to  direct  and  to  command  is 
almost  irrepressible.  He  who  is  born  with  it  instinct- 
ively places  himself  at  the  head  of  a  movement,  and 
clutches  the  baton  of  authority  as  if  it  had  been  his  play- 
thing from  infancy.  Even  in  the  sports  of  childhood, 
the  controlling  and  master  spirit  of  the  merry  group  is  to 
oe  detected  at  a  glance  ;  and,  if  three  men  act  together 
for  a  day,  the  leading  mind  discovers  and  assumes  its 
place.  The  inferior  in  mental  power  sink  rapidly  to  their 
appropriate  station ;  the  contemplation  of  an  emergency 
tends  to  convince  them  that  they  are  incompetent  to  head 
the  column,  and,  although  they  may  grumble  a  little, 
they  soon  fall  quietly  into  the  ranks.  It,  therefore, 
would  not  answer  if  all  men  had  that  self-reliance  and 
that  iron  will  which  are  the  essential  ingredients  in  the 
composition  of  a  leading  mind.  The  community  would 
be  broken  up  into  a  mob  of  generals,  with  never  a  soldier 
to  be  had  for  love  or  money.  There  would  be  no  more 
harmony  extant  than  there  is  in  the  vocal  efforts  of  a 
roomfull  of  bacchanalians,  when  each  man  singeth  his 
own  peculiar  song,  and  hath  no  care  but  that  he  may 
be  louder  than  his  boon  companions.  Our  time  would 
be  chiefly  spent  in  trying  to  disprove  the  axiom,  tha 
when  two  men  ride  a  horse  one  must  ride  behind.  Each 
pony  in  the  field  would  have  riders  enough ;  but,  instead 
of  jogging  steadily  toward  any  definite  end,  he  who  was 
in  the  rear  would  endeavour  to  clamber  to  the  front,  and 
thus  a  species  of  universal  leap-frog  would  be  the  order 
of  the  day.  Great  results  could  not  be  achieved,  for  action 
in  masses  would  be  a  thing  unheard  of,  and  the  nations 
would  be  a  collection  of  unbound  sticks. 

Yet  the  cultivation  of  the  energies  to  a  certain  extent 


INDECISION. 


81 


is  a  matter  of  import  to  the  welfare  and  happiness  of 
every  individual.  We  are  frequently  placed  in  circum- 
stances in  which  it  is  necessary  to  be  our  own  captain- 
general  ;  and,  with  all  deference  to  the  improving  spirit 
of  the  time,  and  to  the  labours  of  the  many  who  devote 
themselves  to  the  advancement  of  education,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  the  energies  do  not  always  receive  the  at- 
tention to  which  they  are  entitled.  It  is  true  there  is  an 
abundance  of  teaching ;  we  can  scarcely  move  without 
coming  in  contact  with  a  professor  of  something,  who, 
in  the  plenitude  of  his  love  for  his  fellows,  promises,  for 
the  most  trifling  consideration,  to  impart  as  much  if  not 
more  than  he  knows  himself,  in  a  time  so  incredibly 
short  that,  if  we  were  not  aware  of  the  wonder-working 
power  of  the  high  pressure  principle,  we  should  not  be- 
lieve it ;  but  no  one  has  yet  appeared  in  the  useful  character 
of  a  "  Professor  of  Decision" — no  one  has  yet  thought  it 
a  good  speculation  to  teach  in  six  lessons  of  an  hour 
each,  the  art  of  being  able  without  assistance  speedily  to 
make  up  the  mind  upon  a  given  subject,  and  to  keep  it 
made  up,  like  a  well-packed  knapsack.  There  are  arith- 
meticians and  algebraists  in  plenty ;  but  the  continent 
may  be  ranged  without  finding  him  who  can  instruct  us 
how  to  solve,  as  Jack  Downing  would  express  it,  a  "  tuff 
sum"  in  conduct,  and  to  act  unflinchingly  upon  the 
answer ;  and  ingenuity  has  discovered  no  instrument  to 
screw  the  mind  to  the  sticking  place.  Now,  although 
humility  may  be  a  very  amiable  characteristic,  and  defer- 
ence to  the  opinions  of  others  a  very  pleasing  trait,  yet 
promptness  in  decision  and  boldness  in  action  form  the 
best  leggins  with  which  to  scramble  through  the  thistles 
and  prickles  of  active  life ;  and  a  professor  of  the  kind 
alluded  to  would  doubtless  have  many  pupils  from  the 
ranks  of  those  who  have,  by  virtue  of  ssndry  tears 
136 


82  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

and  scratches,  become  anxious  for  a  pair  of  nether  in 
teguments  of  that  description.  At  least,  he  might  rely 
upon 

DUBERLY  DOUBTINGTON, 

THE  MAN  WHO  COULDN'T  MAKE  UP  HIS  MIND 


»'  LEAH,  tell  your  master  dinner's  been  waiting  for  him 
this  hour." 

"  He  can't  come,  mem ; — the  man's  with  him  yet, 
mem." 

"  What  man  ?" 

"  The  solumcolly  man,  mem  ; — the  man  that  stays  so 
.ong,  and  is  always  so  hard  to  go." 

Every  one  who  has  visiters  is  aware  of  the  great 
difference  among  them  in  the  matter  referred  to  by  Leah. 
In  fact,  they  may  be  divided  into  two  classes — visiters 
who  are  "  easy  to  go"  and  administer  themselves,  accord- 
ing to  Hahnemann,  in  homoeopathic  doses,  and  visiters 
who  are  "hard  to  go,"  and  are  exhibited  in  quantity,  in 
conformity  with  regular  practice. 

The  individual  who  was  guilty  of  keeping  Mr.  Edax 
Rerum  from  his  dinner  was  Duberly  Doubtington,  a 
man  who  couldn't  make  up  his  mind — a  defect  of  cha- 
racter which  rendered  him  peculiarly  hard  to  go,  and 
made  him  responsible  for  having  caused  many  to  eat 
their  mutton  cold.  It  was  Juliet  who  found, 

"  Parting  such  sweet  sorrow, 
That  she  could  say  good  night  till  it  be  morrow  ,•" 
and  Duberly's  farewells  are  equally  interminable.  When 
ne  has  once  fairly  effected  a  lodgment,  he  is  rooted  to 


DTTBERLY    DOUBTINGTON.  83 

the  spot.  It  is  as  difficult  for  him  to  go  off,  as  it  frequent- 
ly is  for  stage  heroes  to  make  their  pistols  shoot.  But, 
though  it  is  hard  for  him  to  go,  yet  he  finds  it  quite  easy 
to  be  hours  in  going.  By  way  of  preparation,  he  first 
reaches  his  hat,  and  "  smooths  its  raven  down."  He 
then  lays  it  aside  again  for  the  greater  convenience  of 
drawing  on  a  glove,  and  that  operation  being  completed, 
the  gauntlet  is  speedily  drawn  off  that  he  may  adjust  his 
side-locks.  Much  time  being  consumed  in  these  inte- 
resting preliminaries,  he  has  no  difficulty  at  all  in  em- 
ploying an  additional  hour  when  once  fairly  upon  his 
legs.  He  discom'ses  over  the  back  of  his  chair,  he 
pauses  at  the  parlotfr  door,  he  hesitates  in  the  hall,  and 
rallies  manfully  on  the  outer  steps.  The  colder  the 
weather  the  more  determined  his  grasp  upon  his  victim, 
having  decidedly  the  advantage  over  the  resident  of  the 
mansion,  in  being  hatted,  coated,  and  gloved.  In  this 
way,  indeed,  he  deserves  a  medal  from  the  faculty  for 
cutting  out  doctor's  work,  especially  in  influenza  times. 
The  straps  and  buckles  of  Duberly's  resolution  will 
not  hold,  no  matter  how  tightly  he  may  pull  them  up, 
and  he  has  suffered  much  in  the  unphilosophic  attempt 
to  sit  upon  two  stools.  When  he  starts  upon  a  race,  an 
unconsidered  shade  of  opinion  is  sure  to  catch  him  by 
the  skirt,  and  draw  him  back.  He  is,  in  a  measure, 
Fabian  in  policy.  He  shifts  his  position  continually, 
and  never  hazards  an  attack.  His  warfare  is  a  succes- 
sion of  feints  and  unfinished  demonstrations,  and  he  has 
been  aptly  likened  to  a  leaden  razor,  which  looks  sharp 
enough,  but  will  turn  in  the  cutting.  He  is  in  want  of 
a  pair  of  mental  spectacles  ;  for  he  has  a  weakness  in  the 
optic  nerve  of  his  mind's  eye  which  prevents  him,  in 
regarding  the  future,  from  seeing  beyond  the  nose  of  the 
present  movement.  The  chemistry  of  events,  whic- 


84  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

figures  out  ulterior  results  from  immediate  combination 
and  instant  action,  is  a  science  as  yet  unknown  to  Du- 
berly,  Doubtington.  He  cannot  tell  what  to  think ;  he 
knows  not  what  to  do.  The  situations  in  which  he  is 
placed  have  never  occurred  to  him  before  ;  the  lights  of 
experience  are  wanting,  and  he  is  therefore  perplexed 
in  the  labyrinth.  Like  the  fabled  coffin  of  Mohammed, 
he  is  always  in  a  state  of  "  betweenity."  He  is,  in  short, 
as  a  forcible  writer  well  observes,  one  of  those  unfortu- 
nate people  who  seldom  experience  "  the  sweet  slumber 
of  a  decided  opinion." 

Such  is  the  moral  man  of  Duberly  Doubtington,  and 
his  physical  man  betrays  traits  of  indecision  equally  as 
strong.  He  tries  to  encourage  his  heart  by  cocking  his 
beaver  a  la  militaire,  but  its  furry  fierceness  cannot 
contradict  the  expression  of  the  features  it  surmounts. 
His  eyebrows  form  an  uncertain  arch,  rising  nearly  an 
inch  above  the  right  line  of  determination,  and  the  button 
of  his  nose  is  so  large  and  blunt  as  to  lend  any  thing  but 
a  penetrating  look  to  his  countenance.  His  under  lip 
droops  as  if  afraid  to  clench  resolutely  with  its  antago- 
nist; and  his  whiskers  hang  dejectedly  down,  instead  of 
bristling  like  a  chevaux  defrise  toward  the  outer  angle 
of  the  eye.  The  hands  of  Mr.  Doubtington  always 
repose  in  his  pockets,  unwilling  to  trust  to  their  own 
means  of  support,  and  he  invariably  leans  his  back 
against  the  nearest  sustaining  object.  When  he  walks, 
his  feet  shuffle  here  and  there  so  dubiously  that  One  may 
swear  they  have  no  specific  orders  where  to  go;  and  so 
indefinite  are  the  motions  of  his  body,  that  even  the  tails 
of  his  coat  have  no  characteristic  swing.  They  look, 
not  like  Mr.  Doubtington's  coat-tails,  but  like  coat-tails 
rn  the  abstract — undecided  coat-tails,  that  have  not  yet 
got  the  hang  of  anybody's  back,  and  have  acquired  no 


DUBERLY    DOUBTING-TON.  85 

more  individuality  than  those  which  dangle  at  the  shop 
doors  in  Water  street. 

Duberly  Doubtington  was  at  one  time  tolerably  com 
fortable  in  his  pecuniary  circumstances.  His  father  had 
been  successful  in  trade,  and,  of  course,  thought  it  un- 
necessary to  teach  his  children  to  make  up  their  minds 
about  any  thing  but  enjoying  themselves.  This  neglect, 
however,  proved  fatal  to  the  elder  Doubtington. 

That  worthy  individual  being  taken  one  warm  summer 
afternoon  with  an  apoplectic  fit,  the  younger  Doubtington 
was  so  perplexed  whether  or  not  to  send  for  a  physician 
and  if  he  did,  what  physician  should  be  called  in — 
whether  he  should  or  should  not  try  to  bleed  him  with 
a  penknife,  and  whether  it  was  most  advisable  to  have 
him  put  to  bed  up  stairs  or  to  leave  him  upon  the  sofa 
down  stairs, — that  the  old  gentleman,  being  rather  pressed 
for  time,  could  not  await  the  end  of  the  debate,  and 
quietly  slipped  out  of  the  world  before  his  son  could 
make  up  his  mind  as  to  the  best  method  of  keeping  him 
in  it.  In  fact,  it  was  almost  a  chance  that  the  senior 
Doubtington  obtained  sepulture  at  all,  as  Duberly  could 
not  make  up  his  mind  where  that  necessary  business 
should  take  place  ;  and  he  would  have  been  balancing  the 
pros  and  cons  of  the  question  to  this  day,  if  some  other 
person,  more  prompt  of  decision,  had  not  settled  the 
matter. 

Duberly  Doubtington  was  now  his  own  master. 
There  were  none  entitled  to  direct,  to  control,  or  to 
advise  him.  He  was  the  Phaeton  of  his  own  fortunes,  and 
could  drive  the  chariot  where  he  pleased.  But,  although 
he  had  often  looked  forward  to  this  important  period 
with  much  satisfaction,  and  had  theorised  upon  it  with 
great  delight,  yet  in  practice  he  found  it  not  quite  so  well 
adapted  to  his  peculiar  abilities  as  he  thought  it  would 


86  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

be.  A  share  of  decision  is  required  even  by  those  who 
are  placed  beyond  the  necessity  of  toiling  for  bread.  The 
disposition  of  his  means  frequently  called  on  him  to 
resolve  upon  a  definite  course. 

"  I  regard  it  as  a  very  fair  investment,  Mr.  Doubt- 
ington,"  said  his  broker ;  "  your  money  is  useless 
where  it  is." 

'  But,  what  do  you  advise  ? — under  the  circumstances 
what  should  I  do  ?"  replied  Duberly. 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  pretend  to  direct.  I  want  no  un- 
necessary responsibility.  There's  no  knowing  what 
may  happen  these  slippery  times.  I  think  the  chance  a 
good  one  ;  but  make  up  your  mind  about  it." 

There  are  people  who  talk  about  making  up  one's 
mind  as  if  it  were  a  task  as  easy  as  to  eat  a  dinner,  or 
as  if  it  were  as  purely  mechanical  as  driving  a  nail,  or 
putting  on  a  pair  of  old  familiar  boots. 

"  I  pay  that  man  for  attending  to  my  business," 
muttered  Duberly,  "  and  yet  he  has  the  impudence  to 
tell  me  to  make  up  my  mind  ! — That's  the  very  thing  I 
want  him  to  do  for  me.  The  tailor  makes  my  clothes — 
Sally  makes  my  bed — nature  makes  my  whiskers,  and 
John  makes  my  fires  ;  yet  I  must  be  bothered  to  make 
up  my  mind  about  money  matters  !  I  can't — the  greatest 
nuisances  alive  are  these  responsibility  shifting  people  ; 
and,  if  some  one  would  tell  me  who  else  to  get  to  attend 
to  my  business,  I'd  send  that  fellow  flying." 

Difficult,  however,  as  he  supposed  it  would  be,  Duber- 
ly at  length  found  a  gentleman  manager  of  his  pecuniary 
affairs,  who  never  troubled  him  to  make  up  his  mind, 
with  what  results  shall  appear  anon. 

Duberly  could  not  resolve  whether  it  was  the  best 
policy  to  travel  first  in  the  old  world  or  in  the  new,  and 
he  therefore  did  neither ;  but  as  time  is  always  heavy  on 


DtJBERLY    DOUBTINGTON.  87 

the  hands  of  those  who  have  much  of  it  at  disposal,  and 
as  it  is  difficult  to  lounge  eternally  at  home,  or  in  the 
street,  he  slowly  established  what  the  Scotch  call  a 
"  howf '  for  each  portion  of  the  day.  In  the  morning 
he  dozed  over  the  newspapers  at  a  reading  room  ;  be- 
tween noon  and  the  dinner  hour,  he  lolled  upon  three 
chairs  at  the  office  of  his  friend  Capias  the  lawyer,  by 
way  of  facilitating  that  individual's  business ;  the  after- 
noon was  divided  between  whittling  switches  at  home 
and  riding  to  some  popular  resort,  v/here  he  cut  his  name 
upon  the  table.  In  the  evening,  if  he  did  not  yawn  at 
the  theatre,  he  visited  some  hospitable  mansion,  where 
the  elders  were  good  natured  and  the  juniors  agreeable. 

At  the  house  of  Mrs.  St.  Simon  Sapsago,  a  bouncing 
widow,  with  a  dashing  son,  and  a  pair  of  daughters, 
Mr.  Duberly  Doubtington  was  invariably  well  received  ; 
for,  although  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind,  he  was  in 
other  respects  so  "  eligible"  that  Mrs.  St.  Simon  Sapsago 
was  always  pleased  to  see  him,  and  willing  that  he 
should  either  listen  or  talk  as  much  as  he  liked  within 
her  doors.  Miss  Ethelinda  St.  Simon  Sapsago  was  a 
very  pretty  girl ;  and,  for  some  reason  or  other,  comported 
herself  so  graciously  to  Duberly,  that,  when  troubled  to 
form  a  conclusion,  he  usually  asked  her  advice,  and  to  his 
great  satisfaction,  was  sure  to  receive  it  in  a  comfortable, 
decisive  way. 

"  Miss  Ethelinda,  I'm  trying  to  make  up  my  mind 
about  coats ;  but  I  can't  tell  whether  I  like  bright  but- 
tons or  not.  Nor  do  I  know  exactly  which  are  the 
nicest  colours.  I  do  wish  there  was  only  one  sort  of 
buttons,  and  only  one  kind  of  colour;  the  way  every 
thing  is  now,  is  so  tiresome — one's  perpetually  both- 
ered." 

So  Ethelinda  St.  Simon  Sapsago,  with  her  sweetest 


88  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

smile,  would  give  her  views  upon  the  subject,  to  Duber- 
ly's  great  delight.  In  fact,  she  was  his  "  council's  con- 
sistory ;"  or,  as  the  Indians  have  it,  she  was  his  "  sense- 
bearer,"  a  very  important  item  in  the  sum  total  of  one's 
domestic  relations. 

But,  though  these  consultations  were  very  frequent, 
still  Duberly  said  nothing  to  the  purpose,  notwithstand- 
ing the  fact  that  every  one  looked  upon  it  as  a  "  settled 
thing,"  and  wanted  to  know  when  it  was  to  be.  Duberly 
Doubtington,  however,  never  dreamed  of  matrimony  ;  or 
if  he  did,  it  only  floated  like  a  vague  mist  across  the 
distant  horizon  of  his  speculative  thoughts.  He  regarded 
it  as  a  matter  of  course  that,  at  some  period  or  other,  he 
should  have  a  wife  and  children — just  as  we  all  expect 
either  to  be  bald,  or  to  have  gray  hairs,  and  to  die  :  but 
he  shivered  at  the  idea  of  being  called  on  to  make  up  his 
mind  on  such  a  step.  He  had  a  faint  hope  that  he 
would  be  married,  as  it  were,  imperceptibly ;  that  it 
would,  like  old  age,  steal  upon  him  by  degrees,  so  that  he 
might  be  used  to  it  before  he  found  it  out.  The  connu- 
bial state,  however,  is  not  a  one  into  which  a  Doubtington 
can  slide  by  degrees  ;  there  is  no  such  thing  as  being  im 
perceptibly  married,  a  fact  of  which  Mrs.  and  Miss  St. 
Simon  Sapsago  were  fully  aware,  and,  therefore,  resolved 
to  precipitate  matters  by  awakening  Duberly's  jealousy. 

Ethelinda  became  cold  upon  giving  her  advice  on  the 
subject  of  new  coats  and  other  matters.  Indeed,  when 
asked  by  Duberly  whether  she  did  not  think  it  would  be 
better  for  him  to  curtail  his  whiskers  somewhat  during 
the  summer  months,  she  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  she 
didn't  care  what  he  did  with  them,  and  that  she  nevel 
had  observed  whether  he  wore  huge  corsair  whiskers,  or 
lawyerlike  apologies.  Duberly  was  shocked  at  a 
defection  so  flagrant  on  the  part  of  his  "sense-bearer." 


DUBERLY    DOUBTINGTON.  89 

Insult  his  whiskers  ! — he   couldn't  make  up  his  mind 
what  to  think  of  it. 

But  still  more  shocked  was  he  when  he  observed  that 
he  smiled  upon  Mr.  Adolphus  Fitzflam,  who  cultivated 
immense  black  curls,  latitudinarian  whiskers,  black 
Tioustaches,  with  an  imperial  to  match — Fitzflam,  who 
made  it  the  business  of  his  life  to  "  do  the  appalling,"  and 
out-haired  everybody  except  the  bison  at  the  "  Zoolo- 
gical Institute."  Duberly  felt  uncomfortable ;  he  was  not 
in  love — at  least  he  had  never  found  it  out — but  he  was 
troubled  with  a  general  uneasiness,  an  oppression,  a  de- 
pression, and  a  want  of  appetite.  "  Gastric  derangement," 
said  the  quack  advertisements,  and  Duberly  took  a  box 
of  pills:  "but  one  disease,"  said  the  newspapers,  and 
Duberly  swallowed  another  box  of  pills,  but  without 
relief.  Whenever  Fitzflam  approached,  the  symptoms 
returned. 

"  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  about  it,"  said  Duberly  ; 
"  but  I  don't  think  I  like  that  buffalo  fellow,  Fitzflam 
Why  don't  they  make  him  up  into  mattrasses,  and  stuff 
cushions  with  whatever' s  left?" 

****** 

"  Mr.  Doubtington,  isn't  Augustus  Fitzflam  a  duck  ?" 
said  Ethelinda  one  evening  when  they  were  left  tete-a- 
tete  ;  "  such  beautiful  hair!" 

"I  can't  tell  whether  he's  a  duck  or  not,"  said  Du- 
berly, dryly,  "I  haven't  seen  much  more  of  him  than  the 
tip  of  his  nose ;  but,  if  not  a  member  of  the  goose 
family,  he  will  some  day  share  the  fate  of  the  man  I  saw 
at  Fairmount — be  drowned  in  his  own  locks" 

"  But  he  looks  so  romantic — so  piratical — as  if  he  had 
something  on  his  mind,  never  slept,  and  had  a  silent 
sorrow  here  " 


90  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

"He  had  better  try  a  box  of  the  vegetable  pills,' 
thought  Duberly. 

"  Well,  I  do  declare  it's  not  surprising  that  so  many 
have  fallen  in  love  with  Adolphus  Fitzflam,"  and  Miss 
Ethelinda  St.  Simon  Sapsago  breathed  a  scarcely  per- 
ceptible sigh. 

Duberly  started — his  eyes  were  opened  to  his  own 
complaint  at  once,  and  somehow  or  other,  without 
making  up  his  mind,  he  hurriedly  declared  himself. 

"  Speak  to  my  ma,"  faintly  whispered  Miss  Ethelin- 
da St.  Simon  Sapsago. 

"To-morrow,"  replied  Duberly  Doubtington,  taking 
a  tender,  but  rapid  farewell. 

Duberly  was  horror-struck  at  his  own  rashness.  He 
tossed  and  rolled  all  night,  trying  to  make  up  his  mind 
as  to  the  propriety  of  his  conduct.  He  stayed  at  home 
all  day  for  the  same  purpose,  and  the  next  day  found 
him  still  irresolute. 

"  Mrs.  St.  Simon  Sapsago's  compliments,  and  wishes 
to  know  if  Mr.  Duberly  Doubtington  is  ill." 

"No!" 

Three  days  more,  and  yet  the  mind  of  Mr.  Doubting- 
ton  was  a  prey  to  perplexity. 

Mr.  Julius  St.  Simon  Sapsago  called  to  ask  the 
meaning  of  his  conduct,  and  Duberly  promised  to  inform 
him  when  he  had  made  up  his  mind. 

Mr.  Adolphus  Fitzflam,  as  the  friend  of  Julius  St.  S. 
Sapsago,  with  a  challenge. 

"Leave  your  errand,  boy,"  said  Doubtington,  angrily, 
' and  go." 

Fitzflam  winked  at  the  irregularity,  and  retreated. 

Duberly  lighted  a  cigar  with  the  cartel,  and  puffed 
away  vigorously 


DTTBERLY    DOUBTINGTON.  91 

'  What's  to  be  done  ? — marry,  or  be  shot !  I  don't 
like  either — at  least,  I've  come  to  no  conclusion  on  the 
subject.  When  I've  made  up  my  mind,  I'll  let  'em 
know — plenty  of  time." 

No  notice  being  taken  of  the  challenge,  Mr.  Julius  St. 
Simon  Sapsago  assaulted  Mr.  Doubtington  in  the  street 
with  a  horsewhip,  while  Fitzflam  stood  by  to  enjoy  the 
sport.  There  is  nothing  like  a  smart  external  application 
to  quicken  the  mental  faculties,  and  so  our  hero  found  it. 

"  Stop  !"  said  he,  dancing  a  la  Celeste. 

"You're  a  scoundrel!"  cried  Julius,  and  the  whip 
cracked  merrily. 

"  I've  made  up  my  mind  !"  replied  Duberly,  suddenly 
shooting  his  clenched  fist  into  the  countenance  of  the 
flagellating  Julius,  who  turned  a  backward  summerset 
over  a  wheelbarrow.  Fitzflam  lost  his  hat  in  an  abrupt 
retreat  up  the  street,  and  he  was  fortunate  in  his  swift- 
ness, for,  "had  all  his  hairs  been  lives,"  Duberly  would 
have  plucked  them. 

But,  from  this  moment,  the  star  of  Duberly  Doubting- 
ton  began  to  wane.  The  case  of  Sapsago  versus  Doubt- 
ington, for  breach  of  promise  of  marriage,  made  heavy 
inroads  upon  his  fortune.  His  new  man  of  business, 
who  took  the  responsibility  of  managing  his  money 
affairs  without  pestering  him  for  directions,  sunk  the 
whole  of  his  cash  in  the  Bubble  and  Squeak  Railroad  and 
Canal  Company,  incorporated  with  banking  privileges 
Doubtington,  therefore,  for  once  was  resolute,  and  turned 
politician ;  and  in  this  capacity  it  was  that  he  called  upon 
Mr.  Edax  Rerum  for  his  influence  to  procure  him  an 
office.  He  still  lives  in  the  hope  of  a  place,  but,  unluck- 
ily for  himself,  can  never  make  up  his  mind  on  which 
side  to  be  zealous  until  the  crisis  is  past  and  zeal  is 
useless, 


92  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

His  last  performance  was  characteristic.  Having 
escorted  the  Hon.  Phinkey  Phunks  to  the  steamboat,  the 
vessel  began  to  move  before  he  had  stepped  ashore. 
He  stood  trembling  on  the  brink.  "Jump,  you  fool!" 
said  a  jarvey. — "  Take  keer — it's  too  fur!"  said  a  news 
paper  boy.  The  advice  being  balanced,  Doubtington 
was  perplexed,  and,  making  a  half  step,  as  the  distance 
widened,  he  plumped  into  the  river.  He  was  fished  out 
almost  drowned,  and,  as  he  stood  streaming  and  wo-be- 
gone  upon  the  wharf,  while  other  less  liquid  patriots  earned 
golden  opinions  by  shouting,  "  Hurrah  for  Phunks  !" 
imagination  could  scarcely  conceive  a  more  appropriate 
emblem  of  the  results  of  indecision  than  that  presented 
by  Duberly  Doubtington,  a  man  who,  had  it  been  left  to 
himself,  would  never  have  been  in  the  world  at  all. 


DILLY  JONES; 

OR,  THE  PROGRESS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 


O\E  of  the  most  difficult  things  in  the  world  is  to  run 
before  the  wind ;  and,  by  judiciously  observing  tne 
changes  of  the  weather,  to  avoid  being  thrown  out. 
Fashion  is  so  unsteady,  and  improvements  are  so  rapid, 
that  the  man  whose  vocation  yields  him  an  abundant 
harvest  now,  may,  in  a  few  years,  if  he  has  not  a  keen 
eye,  and  a  plastic  versatility,  find  that  his  skill  and  his 
business  are  both  useless.  Many  were  the  poor  barbers 
shipwrecked  by  the  tax  upon  hair-powder,  and  numerous 
were  the  leather  breeches  makers  who  were  destroyed 
by  the  triumph  of  woollens.  Their  skill  was  doubtless 
very  great,  but  it  would  not  avail  in  a  contest  against  the 
usages  of  the  world ;  and  unless  they  had  the  capacity 
to  strike  out  a  new  course,  they  all  shared  the  fate  of 
their  commodities,  and  retired  to  the  dark  cellars  of  popu- 
lar estimation.  Every  day  shows  us  the  same  principle 
of  change  at  work,  and  no  one  has  more  reason  to  reflect 
and  mourn  about  it  than  one  Dilly  Jones  of  this  city. 
Dilly  is  not,  perhaps,  precisely  the  person  who  would  be 
chronicled  by  the  memoir  writers  of  the  time,  or  have  a 
monument  erected  to  him  if  he  were  no  more  ;  but  Dilly 
is  a  man  of  a  useful  though  humble  vocation,  and  no  one 
can  saw  hickory  with  more  classic  elegance,  or  s>t  upon 


94  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

the  curbstone  and  take  his  dinner  with  more  picturesqv  «j 
effect. 

Yet,  as  has  been  hinted  above,  Dilly  has  his  sorrows, 
particularly  at  night,  after  a  hard  day's  work,  when  his 
animal  spirits  have  been  exhausted  by  reducing  gum  logs 
to  the  proper  measure.  In  the  morning  he  is  full  of  life 
and  energy,  feeling  as  if  he  could  saw  a  cord  of  Shot- 
towers,  and  snap  the  pillars  of  the  Bank  across  his  knee 
Uke  pipe  stems.  In  the  full  flush  of  confidence  at  that 
time  of  day,  reflection  batters  against  him  in  vain ;  but 
as  the  night  draws  on,  Dilly  feels  exhausted  and  spirit- 
less. His  enthusiasm  seems  to  disappear  with  the  sun, 
and  neither  the  moon  nor  the  stars  can  cause  high  tide  in 
the  river  of  his  mind.  The  current  of  his  good  spirits- 
shrinks  in  its  channel,  leaving  the  gay  and  gorgeous 
barques  of  hope  and  confidence  drearily  ashore  on  the 
muddy  flats  ;  and  his  heart  fails  him  as  if  it  were  useless 
longer  to  struggle  against  adversity. 

It  was  in  this  mood  that  he  was  once  seen  travelling 
homeward,  with  his  horse  and  saw  fixed  scientifically 
upooi  his  shoulders.  He  meandered  in  his  path  in  the 
way  peculiar  to  men  of  his  vocation,  and  travelled  with 
that  curvilinear  elegance  which  at  once  indicates  that  he 
who  practises  it  is  of  the  wood-sawing  profession,  and 
illustrates  the  lopsided  consequences  of  giving  one  leg 
more  to  do  than  the  other.  But  Dilly  was  too  melan- 
choly on  this  occasion  to  feel  proud  of  his  professional 
air,  and  perhaps,  had  he  thought  of  it,  would  have  re- 
proved the  leg  which  performed  the  "sweep  of  sixty," 
for  indulging  in  such  graces,  and  thereby  embarrassing 
its  more  humble  brother,  which,  knowing  that  a  right 
line  is  the  shortest  distance  between  two  places,  laboured 
to  go  straight  to  its  destination.  Diily,  however,  had  no 


DILLY    JONES.  95 

such  stuff  in  his  thoughts.  His  mind  was  reasoning  from 
the  past  to  the  future,  and  was  mournfully  meditating 
upon  the  difficulties  of  keeping  up  with  the  changes  of 
tie  times,  which  roll  onward  like  a  Juggernaut,  and  crush 
all  who  are  not  swift  enough  to  maintain  themselves  in 
the  lead.  He  wondered  why  fashions  and  customs 
should  so  continually  change,  and  repined  that  he  could 
not  put  a  spoke  in  their  wheel,  that  the  trade,  of  one's 
early  days  might  likewise  be  the  trade  of  one's  latter 
years.  So  complete  was  his  abstraction  that  he  uncon- 
sciously uttered  his  thoughts  aloud  : 

"  Sawing  wood's  going  all  to  smash,"  said  he,  "  and 
that's  where  every  thing  goes  what  I  speculates  in.  This 
here  coal  is  doing  us  up.  Ever  since  these  black  stones 
was  brought  to  town,  the  wood-sawyers  and  pilers,  -and 
them  soap-fat  and  hickory-ashes  men,  has  been  going 
down ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  can't  say  as  how  I  see  what's 
to  be  the  end  of  all  their  new-fangled  contraptions.  But 
it's  always  so  ;  I'm  always  crawling  out  of  the  little  end 
of  the  horn.  I  began  life  in  a  comfortable  sort  of  a  way ; 
selling  oysters  out  of  a  wheelbarrow,  all  clear  grit,  and 
didn't  owe  nobody  nothing.  Oysters  went  down  slick 
enough  for  a  while,  but  at  last  cellars  was  invented,  and 
darn  the  oyster,  no  matter  how  nice  it  was  pickled,  coulc 
poor  Dill  sell ;  so  I  had  to  eat  up  capital  and  profits  my 
self.  Then  the  '  pepree  pot  smoking'  was  sot  up,  and 
went  ahead  pretty  considerable  for  a  time  ;  but  a  parcel 
of  fellers  come  into  it,  said  my  cats  wasn't  as  good  as 
their'n,  when  I  know'd  they  was  as  fresh  as  any  cats  in 
.  the  market ;  and  pepree  pot  was  no  go.  Bean  soup  was 
just  as  bad  ;  people  said  kittens  wasn't  good  done  that 
way,  and  the  more  I  hollered,  the  more  the  customers 
wouldn't  come,  and  them  what  did,  wanted  tick.  Along 
with  the  boys  arid  their  pewter  ftps,  them  what  got  trust 


96  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

and  didn't  pay,  and  the  abusing  of  my  goods,  1  was  soon 
fotch'd  up  in  the  victualling  line — and  I  busted  for  the 
benefit  of  my  creditors.  But  genius  riz.  I  made  a  raise 
of  a  horse  and  saw,  after  being  a  wood-piler's  prentice 
for  a  while,  and  working  till  I  was  free,  and  now  here 
comes  the  coal  to  knock  this  business  in  the  head.  My 
people's  decent  people,  and  I  can't  disgrace  'em  by  turn- 
ing Charcoal  Jemmy,  or  smashing  the  black  stones  with 
a  pickaxe.  They  wouldn't  let  me  into  no  society  at  all 
if  I  did." 

The  idea  of  being  excluded  from  the  upper  circles  of 
he  society  in  "which  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  moving, 
fell  heavily  upon  the  heart  of  poor  Dilly  Jones.  He 
imagined  the  curled  lips  and  scornful  glances  of  the  aris- 
tocratic fair,  who  now  listened  with  gratification  to  his 
compliments  and  to  his  soft  nonsense  ;  he  saw  himself 
passed  unrecognised  in  the  street — absolutely  cut  by  his 
present  familiar  friends,  and  the  thought  of  losing  caste 
almost  crushed  his  already  dejected  spirit. 

The  workings  of  his  imagination,  combined  with  the 
fatigue  of  his  limbs,  caused  such  exhaustion,  that,  dis- 
lodging his  horse  from  his  shoulder,  he  converted  it  into 
a  camp-stool,  seated  himself  under  the  lee  of  a  shop 
window,  and,  after  slinging  his  saw  petulantly  at  a  dog, 
gazed  with  vacant  eyes  upon  the  people  who  occasionally 
passed,  and  glanced  at  him  with  curiosity. 

"  Hey,  mister  !"  said  a  shop-boy,  at  last,  "  I  want  to 
get  shut  of  you,  'cause  we're  goin'  to  shet  up.  You're 
right  in  the  way,  and  if  you  don't  boom  along,  why  Ben 
and  me  will  have  to  play  hysence,  clearance,  puddin's  out 
with  you  afore  you've  time  to  chalk  your  knuckles — - 
won't  we,  Ben  ?" 

"  We'll  pknip  him  off  of  baste  before  he  can  say  fliance, 
or  get  a  sneak.  We're  knuckle  dabsters,  both  on  us. 


DILLY    TONES.  97 

You'd  better  emigrate — the  old  man's  coming,  and  if  he 
finds  you  here,  he'll  play  the  mischief  with  you,  before 
you  can  sing  out  '  I'm  up  if  you  knock  it  and  ketch?  " 

So  saying,  the  two  lads  placed  themselves  one  on  each 
side  of  Dilly,  and  began  swinging  their  arms  with  an  ex- 
pression that  hinted  very  plainly  at  a  forcible  ejectment. 
Dilly,  however,  who  had  forgotten  all  that  he  ever  knew 
of  the  phrases  so  familiar  to  those  who  scientifically  under- 
stand the  profound  game  of  marbles,  wore  the  puzzled 
air  of  one  who  labours  to  comprehend  what  is  said  to  him. 
But  the  meaning  became  so  apparent  as  not  to  be  mis- 
taken, when  Ben  gave  a  sudden  pull  at  the  horse  which 
almost  dismounted  the  rider. 

"  Doa't  be  so  unfeelin',"  ejaculated  Dilly,  as  he  clutch- 
ed the  cross-bars  of  his  seat ;  "  don't  be  unfeelin',  for  a 
man  in  grief  is  like  a  wood-piler  in  a  cellar — mind  how 
you  chuck,  or  you'll  crack  his  calabash." 

"  Take  care  of  your  calabash  then,"  was  the  grinning 
response ;  "  you  must  skeete,  even  if  you  have  to  cut 
high-dutchers  with  your  irons  loose,  and  that's  no 
fun." 

"  High-dutch  yourself,  if  you  khow  how ;  only  go 
'way  from  me,  'cause  I  ain't  got  no  time." 

"  Well,"  said  the  boys,  "  haven't  we  caught  you 
»n  our  payment? — what  do  you  mean  by  crying  here — 
what  do  you  foller  when  you're  at  home?" 

"  I  works  in  wood ;  that's  what  I  foller." 

"  You're  a  carpenter,  I  s'pose,"  said  Ben,  winking  at 
Tom. 

"  No,  not  exactly  ;  but  I  saws  wood  better  nor  any 
naif  dozen  loafs  about  the  drawbridge.  If  it  wasn't  for 
grief,  I'd  give  -both  of  you  six,  and  beat  you  too  the  best 
day  you  ever  saw,  goin'  the  rale  gum  and  hickory — for  I 
don't  believe  you're  gentlemen's  sons  ;  nothin'  but  poor 
137 


98  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

trash — half  and  half— want  to  be  and  can't,  or  you 
wouldn't  keep  a  troubling  of  me." 

"  ftauley,  Ben,  if  he  isn't  a  wharf-rat!  If  you  don't 
trot,  as  I've  told  you  a'ready,  boss  will  be  down  upon 
you  and  fetch  you  up  like  a  catty  on  a  cork-line — jerk  !" 

"  That's  enough,"  replied  Dilly ;  "  there's  more  places 
nor  one  in  the  world — at  least  there  is  yet ;  new  fash' 
ions  haven't  shut  up  the  streets  yet,  and  obligated  people 
to  hire  hackney  balloons  if  they  want  to  go  a  walkin',  or 
omnibus  boardin'  houses  whrfh  they  want  a  fip's  worth 
of  dinner,  or  a  levy's  worth  of  sleep.  Natural  legs  is 
got  some  chance  for  a  while  anyhow,  and  a  man  can  get 
along  if  he  ain't  got  clock-vurks  to  make  him  go. 

'  I  hope,  by'm'by,"  added  Dill  scornfully,  as  he 
marched  away  from  the  chuckling  lads,  "  that  there 
won't  be  no  boys  to  plague  people.  I'd  vote  for  that 
new  fashion  myself.  Boys  is  luisances,  accordin'  to 
me." 

He  continued  to  soliloquize  as  he  went,  and  his  last 
observations  were  as  follows  : 

"  I  wonder,  if  they  wouldn't  list  me  for  a  Charley  ? 
Hollering  oysters  and  bean  soup  has  guv'  me  a  splendid 
woice  ;  and  instead  of  skeering  'em  away,  if  the  thieves 
were  to  hear  me  singing  out,  my  style  of  doing  it  would 
almost  coax  'em  to  come  and  be  took  up.  They'd  feel 
like  a  bird  when  a  snake  is  after  it,  and  would  walk  up, 
and  poke  their  coat  collars  right  into  my  fist.  Then,  after 
a  while,  I'd  perhaps  be  promoted  to  the  fancy  business  of 
pig  ketehing,  which,  though  it  is  werry  light  and  werry 
elegant,  requires  genus.  Tisn't  every  man  that  can  come 
the  scientifics  in  that  line,  and  has  studied  the  nature  of 
a  pig,  so  as  to  beat  him  at  canoeuvering,  and  make  him 
surrender  'cause  he  sees  it  ain't  no  use  of  doing  nothing 
rt  wants  laming  to  conwince  them  critters,  and  it's  only 


DILLY    JONES.  99 

to  be  done  by  heading  'em  up  handsome,  hopping  which 
ever  way  they  hop,  and  tripping  'em  up  genteel  by 
shaking  hands  with  their  off  hind  leg.  I'd  scorn  to  pull 
their  tails  out  by  the  roots,  or  to  hurt  their  feelin's  by 
dragging  'em  about  by  the  ears. 

'  But  what's  the  use  ?  If  I  was  listed,  they'd  soon  find 
out  to  holler  the  hour  and  to  ketch  the  thieves  by  steam ; 
yes,  and  they'd  take  'em  to  court  on  a  railroad,  and  try 
'em  with  biling  water.  They'll  soon  have  black  locomotives 
for  watchmen  and  constables,  and  big  bilers  for  judges 
and  mayors.  Pigs  will  be  ketched  by  steam,  and  will  be 
biled  fit  to  eat  before  they  are  done  squealing.  By  and 
by,  folks  won't  be  of  no  use  at  all.  There  won't  be  no 
people  in  the  world  but  tea  kettles ;  no  mouths,  but  safety 
valves ;  and  no  talking,  but  blowing  off  steam.  If  I  had 
a  little  biler  inside  of  me,  I'd  turn  omnibus,  and  week- 
days I'd  run  from  Kensington  to  the  Navy  Yard,  and 
Sundays  I'd  run  to  Fairmount." 


THE  FLESHY  ONE 


"  'Twas  fat,  not  fate,  by  which  Napoleon  /c{)  ** 

THERE  is  a  little  man  in  a  sister  city — there  A,  4  little 
men  in  most  cities — but  the  one  now  on  the  tapis  is  a  pecu- 
liar little  man — a  fat  little  man.  He  is  one  who  may  be 
described  as  a  person  about  five  feet — five  feet  high  and 
very  nearly  five  feet  thick,  bearing  much  resemblance  to 
a  large  New  England  pumpkin  stuck  upon  a  pair  of  beets. 
When  he  lies  down  to  sleep,  were  it  not  for  his  nose  at 
one  extremity  and  his  toes  at  the  other,  the  spectator 
would  naturally  suppose  that  he  was  standing  upright 
under  the  cover.  When  he  descends  the  stairs,  he  might 
as  well  roll  on  his  side  as  fatigue  himself  with  walking; 
and,  as  for  tumbling  down  as  other  people  tumble  down, 
that  is  out  of  the  question  with  Berry  Huckel,  or  Hucke] 
Berry,  as  he  is  sometimes  called,  because  of  his  round- 
ness. Should  he,  however,  chance  to  trip, — which  he  is 
apt  to  do,  not  being  able  to  reconnoitre  the  ground  in  the 
vicinity  of  his  feet, — before  he  achieves  a  fair  start  from 
the  perpendicular,  his  "  corporosity"  touches  the  ground 
which  his  hands  in  vain  attempt  to  reach,  and  he  remains, 
until  helped  up,  in  the  position  of  a  schoolboy  stretching 
himself  over  a  cotton  bale.  Had  he  been  the  Lucius 
Junius  of  antiquity,  the  Pythia  would  never  have  beer. 
so  silly  as  to  advise  him  to  kiss  his  mother  earth ;  for 


THE    FLESHY    ONE.  101 

unless  his  legs  are  tilted  up  by  some  one  like  the  handles 
of  a  wheelbarrow,  Berry  Huckel  can  never  bite  the  dust. 
He  cannot  fall  on  his  nose — that  glorious  privilege  has 
been  denied  to  men  of  his  periphery  ;  but  when  enjoying 
moderate  serenity  of  mind,  he  is  always  able  to  sleep 
o'  nights,  therein  having  no  trifling  advantage  over  your 
Seurats,  your  Edsons,  your  walking  anatomies,  whose 
aspect  is  a  reproach  to  those  who  have  the  feeding  of 
them. 

But  biographical  accuracy,  and  a  desire  that  future 
generations  may  not  be  misled  as  to  those  important  facts 
which  make  up  the  aggregate  of  history,  render  it  neces- 
sary to  avow  that  these  fleshy  attributes  worry  Mr.  Berry 
Huckel.  He  cannot  look  upon  the  slender  longitude  of 
a  bean-pole,  he  cannot  observe  the  attenuated  extent  of  a 
hop-stick,  or  regard  the  military  dandyism  of  a  grey- 
hound's waist,  without  experiencing  emotions  of  envy, 
and  wishing  that  he  had  himself  been  born  to  the  same 
lankiness  of  figure,  the  same  emaciation  of  contour.  He 
rejoices  not  in  his  dimensions,  and,  contrary  to  all  rules 
in  physical  science,  believes  that  what  he  gains  in  weight, 
he  loses  in  importance.  It  must,  however,  be  confessed 
that  he  has  some  reason  for  discontent.  He  cannot  wear 
shoes,  for  he  must  have  -assistance  to  tie  them,  and  other 
fingers  than  his  own  to  pull  them  up  at  heel.  Boots  are 
not  without  their  vexations,  although  he  has  a  pair  of 
long  hooks  constructed  expressly  for  his  own  use  ;  and 
should  a  mosquito  bite  his  knee — which  mosquitoes  are 
apt  to  do — it  costs  him  a  penny  to  hire  a  boy  to  scratch 
it.  Berry  is  addicted  to  literature,  and  once  upon  a  time 
could  write  tolerable  verses,  when  he  was  thin  enough  to 
sit  so  near  a  table  as  to  be  able  to  write  upon  it.  But  this 
is  not  the  case  at  present.  His  body  is  too  large,  and  his 
arms  too  short,  for  such  an  achievement. 


102  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

It  is  happily  so  arranged  that  the  mind  of  man  in 
general  accommodates  itself  to  circumstances.  We 
become  reconciled  to  that  which  is  beyond  remedy, 
and  at  length  scarcely  bestow  a  thought  upon  subjects 
which,  when  new,  were  sources  of  much  disquietude  and 
annoyance.  In  fact,  owing  to  the  compensating  principle 
so  often  acted  on  by  nature,  it  is  by  no  means  rare  to 
find  vanity  nourishing  most  luxuriantly  in  those  who 
have  least  cause  to  entertain  the  feeling.  The  more 
numerous  our  defects,  the  greater  is  our  self-satisfaction 
and  thus  the  bitterness  and  discontent  that  might  be 
engendered  by  a  knowledge  that  in  mental  or  in  physi- 
cal gifts  we  are  far  inferior  to  the  majority  of  mankind, 
are  harmlessly  and  pleasantly  prevented.  Who  so  happy 
as  the  simpleton,  who  is  unconscious  of  any  difference 
between  himself  and  the  superior  spirits  with  whom  he 
is  thrown  in  contact,  and  who  would  smilingly  babble 
his  niaiseries  in  the  presence  of  the  assembled  wisdom 
of  the  world?  Who  look  more  frequently  or  with 
greater  delight  into  the  mirror,  than  they  who  have  in 
truth  but  little  reason  to  be  gratified  with  the  object  it 
reflects? — and  who  indulge  more  in  personal  adornment 
than  they  in  whom  it  would  be  the  best  policy  to  avoid 
display,  and  to  attract  the  least  possible  attention  to  their 
outward  proportions  ?  The  ugly  man  is  apt  to  imagine 
that  the  fair  are  in  danger  of  being  smitten  with  him  at  first 
sight,  and  perhaps — but  we  do  not  pretend  to  much 
knowledge  on  this  branch  of  the  subject,  though  suspect- 
ing, contrary  to  the  received  opinion,  that  the  masculine 
gender  are  much  more  liable  to  the  delusions  of  conceit 
than  the  softer  sex,  and  that  the  guilty,  having  a  more 
perfect  command  of  the  public  ear,  have  in  this  instance, 
as  in  many  others,  charged  their  own  sins  upon  the 
guiltless — perhaps  plain  women  are  to  a  certain  extent 


THE     FLESHY    ONE.  I OB 

subject  to  the  same  imputation.  But  who,  even  if  he  had 
the  power,  would  be  so  unfeeling  as  to  dissolve  the  charm 
and  dissipate  the  "  glamour"  which  is  so  potent  in  making 
up  the  estimate,  when  we  sit  in  judgment  on  ourselves  ? 
Who,  indeed,  could  do  it  safely  ? — for  every  one  is 
indebted  to  the  witchery  of  self-deception  for  no  small 
portion  of  the  comfortable  sensations  that  strew  flow- 
ers on  his  path  through  life ;  and  it  would  be  the 
height  of  cruelty  if  the  "  giftie"  desired  by  Burns  were 
accorded,  enabling  us  to  "  see  oursels  as  ithers  see  us." 
It  was — had  it  been  carried  out  to  its  full  extent — an 
unkind  ofler,  that  of  Cassius  to  play  the  moral  looking- 
glass  to  his  brother  conspirator,  and  "  show  that  to 
himself  which  he  yet  knew  not  of."  If  true  and  unre- 
lenting in  its  office,  such  a  looking-glass  would  be  in 
danger  of  a  fracture,  and  it  would  have  the  alternatives 
of  being  either  considered  as  a  malicious  exaggerator,  or 
as  a  mere  falsifier  that  delights  to  wound. 

But  digression  is  a  runaway  steed, — all  this  bears  but 
slantingly  on  Berry  Huckel,  and  they  who  love  not 
generalizing,  may  substitute  for  it  the  individual  specifi- 
cation that,  owing  to  the  comforting  operation  of  custom, 
even  Berry  might  not  have  troubled  himself  on  the  score 
of  the  circumstantial  and  substantial  fat  by  which  he  is 
enveloped,  had  it  not  been  that  in  addition  to  an  affection 
for  himself,  he  had  a  desire  that  he  should  be  equally 
esteemed  by  another.  In  short,  Berry  discovered,  like 
many  other  people,  that  his  sensibilities  were  expansive 
as  well  as  his  figure — that  it  was  not  all  sufficient  to 
happiness  to  love  one's  self,  and  that  his  heart  was  more 
than  a  sulky,  being  sufficient  to  carry  two.  Although  &o 
well  fenced  in,  his  soul  was  to  be  reached,  and  when 
reached,  it  was  peculiarly  susceptible  of  soft  impressions 
"  The  blind  bow-boy's  butt-shaft"  never  had  a  better  mark 


104  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

In  love,  however,  like  does  not  consort  with  lika 
either  in  complexion,  in  figure,  or  in  temper,  or  each 
race  would  preserve  its  distinct  lineage  with  the  regu 
larity  of  the  stripes  upon  the  tartan.  The  fiery  little 
man — little  men  are  almost  always  fiery,  a  fact  which 
can  only  be  accounted  for  on  the  theory,  that  whether  the 
individual  be  big  or  little,  he  contains  the  same  quantity 
of  the  electro-magnetism  of  vitality,  or  in  other  words,  of 
the  spirit  of  life, — this  spirit  in  a  large  body,  having  a 
greater  amount  of  matter  to  animate,  cannot  afford  to 
flash  arid  blaze  except  on  extraordinary  occasions- 
while,  being  superabundant  in  the  smaller  figure,  it  has 
a  surplus  on  hand,  which  stimulates  to  restlessness  and 
activity,  engenders  warmth  and  irritability  of  temper, 
and  is  always  ready  for  explosion — thus,  the  fiery  little 
man  is  apt  to  become  attached  to  beauty  upon  a  large 
scale.  He  loves  by  the  ton,  and  will  have  no  idol  but 
one  that  he  must  look  up  to.  By  such  means  the  petu- 
lance of  diminutiveness  is  checked  and  qualified  by  the 
phlegmatic  calmness  and  repose  of  magnitude.  The 
walking  tower,  on  the  contrary,  who  shakes  the  earth 
with  his  ponderous  tread,  dreams  of  no  other  lady-love 
except  those  miniature  specimens  of  nature's  handiwork, 
who  move  with  the  lightness  of  the  gossamer,  and  seem 
more  like  the  creation  of  a  delightful  vision  than  tangible 
reality.  In  this,  sombre  greatness  asks  alleviation  from 
the  butterfly  gayety  which  belongs  to  the  figure  of  fairy 
mould.  The  swarthy  bend  the  knee  to  those  of  clear 
and  bright  complexion,  and  your  Saxon  blood  seeks  the 
"  dark-eyed  one"  to  pay  its  devotions.  The  impulse  of 
nature  leads  to  those  alliances  calculated  to  correct  faults 
on  both  sides,  and  to  prevent  their  perpetuity.  The 
grave  would  associate  with  the  gay,  the  short  pine  for 
•he  tall,  the  fat  for  the  lean,  the  sulky  for  the  sunny — 


THE    FLESHY    ONE.  105 

the  big  covet  the  little ;  and,  if  our  philosophy  be  not 
always  borne  out  by  the  result,  it  is  because  circumstance 
or  accident  counteracts  instinct,  or  that  the  cases  cited 
form  exceptions  to  the  rule  without  impairing  its  force. 
A  true  theorist  always  leaves  the  wicket  of  escape  open 
behind  him. 

At  all  events,  Berry  Huckel  was  in  the  strictest  con- 
formity to  the  rule.  His  affections  were  set  upon  lathi- 
ness,  and  if  he  could  not  fall  in  love,  he  certainly  con- 
trived to  roll  himself  into  it. 

He  was  indulging  himself  in  a  walk  on  a  pleasant  day, 
and,  as  usual,  was  endeavouring  to  dance  along  and  to 
skip  over  the  impediments  in  the  path,  for  the  purpose 
of  persuading  himself  that  he  was  a  light  and  active 
figure,  and  that  if  any  change  were  going  on  in  his  cor- 
poral properties,  it  was  a  favourable  one,  when  an  event 
occurred  which  formed  an  era  in  his  life.  He  twirled 
his  little  stick, — a  big  one  would  have  looked  as  if  he 
needed  support, — and,  pushing  a  boy  with  a  basket  aside, 
attempted  to  hop  over  a  puddle  which  had  formed  on  the 
crossing  at  the  corner  of  the  street.  The  evolution, 
however,  was  not  so  skilfully  achieved  as  it  would  have 
been  by  any  one  of  competent  muscle  who  carried  less 
weight.  Berry's  foot  came  down  "  on  the  margin  of 
fair  Zurich's  waters,"  and  caused  a  terrible  splash, 
sending  the  liquid  mud  about  in  every  direction. 

"  Phew  !"  puffed  Berry,  as  he  recovered  himself,  and 
looked  with  a  doleful  glance  at  the  melancholy  condition 
in  which  his  vivacity  had  left  his  feet. 

"  Splut !"  ejaculated  the  boy  with  the  basket,  as  he 
wiped  the  mud  out  of  his  eyes.  "  Jist  let  me  ketch  you 
up  our  alley,  that's  all,  puddy-fat !" 

"  Ah  !"  shrieked  Miss  Celestina  Scraggs,  a  very  tall 
ady,  and  particularly  bony,  as  she  regarded  the  terriole 


106  CHARCOAL    SKETCHKS. 

spots  and  stains  with  which  Berry  had  disfigured  hei 
dress  :  "  what  a  pickle  !" 

Berry  turned  round  at  the  voice  of  a  female  in  distress, 
and  the  sight  of  her  went  to  his  heart  like  an  arrow. 
Miss  Celestina  Scraggs  was  precisely  his  beau  ideal  of 
what  a  woman  should  be — not  perhaps  in  countenance, 
but  her  figure  was  the  very  antipodes  of  his  own,  and  he 
felt  that  his  time  was  come.  As  for  face  and  a  few  more 
years  than  are  desirable,  Berry  cared  not,  if  the  lady  were 
tall  enough  and  thin  enough,  and  in  the  individual  before 
him  he  saw  both  those  qualities  combined. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  Berry,  ducking  his  head 
after  the  semblance  of  a  bow,  and  raising  his  hat  with  a 
graceful  curve — "  my  dear  madam,  I  beg  ten  thousand 
pardons.  Allow  me,  if  you  please,"  continued  he,  ob- 
serving that  she  paid  no  attention  to  his  speech,  and  was 
attempting  to  shake  off  the  looser  particles  of  mud,  an 
operation  in  which  Berry  ventured  to  assist. 

"Let  me  alone,  sir — I  wonder  at  your  impudence," 
was  the  indignant  reply,  and  Miss  Celestina  Scraggs 
floated  onward,  frowning  indignantly,  and  muttering  as 
she  went — "  First  splash  a  body,  and  then  insult  a  body  ! 
Pretty  pickle, — nice  situation!  fat  bear  !" 

Berry  remained  in  attitude,  his  hat  in  one  hand  and 
his  handkerchief  with  which  he  would  have  wiped  the 
injured  dress  in  the  other.  The  scorn  of  the  lady  had 
no  other  effect  on  him  than  that  of  riveting  his  chains. 

"  Hip-helloo,  you  sir !"  shouted  an  omnibus  drive.- 
from  his  box,  as  he  cracked  his  whip  impatiently ; 
"  don't  stand  in  the  middle  of  the  street  all  day  a  blockin' 
up  the  gangvay,  or  I'll  drive  right  over  you — blamenation 
if  I  don't!" 

"Shin  it,  good  man!"  ejaculated  a  good-natured 
urchin  ;  "  sn.»n  it  as  well  as  you  know  how  !" 


THE    FI.KSHY    ONE.  107 

The  qualification  was  a  good  one,  Berry  not  being 
well  calculated  for  a  "  stunner"  of  the  first  class.  So 
starting  from  his  revery,  he  hastened  to  escape  "  as  well 
as  he  knew  how,"  and,  placing  his  hat  once  more  upon 
his  head,  he  resolved  to  follow  the  injured  lady  to  ascer- 
tain her  residence,  and  to  devise  ways  and  means  of 
seeking  her  favour  under  better  auspices.  He  hurried 
up  the  street  with  breathless  haste,  forming  a  striking 
resemblance  to  the  figure  which  a  turtle  would  present 
if  walking  a  match  against  time  on  its  hinder  nippers. 
*  *  #  #  *  * 

Passing  over  intermediate  circumstances,  it  will 
suffice  to  say  that  Mr.  Berry  Huckel  discovered  the 
residence  of  Miss  Scraggs,  and  that,  by  perseverance,  he 
obtained  an  introduction  according  to  etiquette.  The 
more  he  saw  of  her  the  more  thoroughly  did  he  become 
fascinated ;  but  Miss  Scraggs  showed  no  disposition  to 
receive  his  suit  with  any  symptoms  of  favour.  She 
scornfully  rejected  his  addresses,  chiefly  because,  although 
having  no  objection  to  a  moderate  degree  of  plumpness, 
his  figure  was  much  too  round  to  square  with  her  ideas 
of  manly  beauty  and  gentility  of  person.  In  vain  did  he 
plead  the  consuming  passion,  which,  like  the  purest 
anthracite  with  the  blower  on,  flamed  in  his  bosom  and 
consumed  his  vitals.  Miss  Scraggs  saw  no  signs  of 
spontaneous  combustion  in  his  jolly  form ;  and  Miss 
Scraggs,  who  is  "  as  tall  and  as  straight  as  a  poplar  tree," 
declared  that  she  could  not  marry  a  man  who  would 
hang  upon  her  arm  like  a  bucket  to  a  pump.  That  he 
was  not  a  grenadier  in  height  might  have  been  forgiven  : 
but  to  be  sh'ort  and  "  roly-poly"  at  the  same  time !  Miss 
Seraphina  Scraggs  could  not  think  of  it — she  would 
faint  at  the  idea. 

Berry  became  almost  desperate.     He  took  lessons  or 


J08  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

the  flute,  and  trolled  forth  melancholy  lays  beneath  the 
lady's  casement,  to  try  the  effect  of  dulcet  sounds  upon  a 
hard  heart ;  but  having  been  informed  from  a  neigh- 
bouring window  that  fifer-boys  were  not  wanted  in  that 
street,  and  that  no  nuisances  would  be  tolerated,  he 
abandoned  music  in  despair;  and  having  consulted  a 
physician  as  to  the  best  method  of  reducing  corpulency, 
he  went  to  the  Gymnasium,  and  endeavoured  to  climb 
poles  and  swing  upon  bars  for  hours  at  a  time.  But  the 
unhappy  Berry  made  but  little  progress,  and  in  his 
unskilful  efforts  having  damaged  his  nose  and  caused 
temporary  injury  to  the  beauty  of  his  frontispiece,  he 
gave  up  the  design  of  making  himself  an  athlete  by  that 
species  of  exercise.  For  sparring,  he  found  that  he  had 
no  genius  at  all,  his  wind  being  soon  exhausted,  and  his 
body  being  such  pleasant  practice  that  his  opponents 
never  knew  when  to  be  done  hitting  at  one  whose  frame 
gave  no  jarring  to  the  knuckles.  It  was,  however,  pic- 
turesque to  see  Berry  with  the  gloves  on,  accoutred  for 
the  fray,  and  squaring  himself  to  strike  and  parry  at  his 
own  figure  in  the  glass.  Deliberation  and  the  line  of 
beauty  were  in  all  his  movements.  Not  obtaining  his 
end  in  this  way,  he  tried  dieting  and  a  quarter  at 
dancing  school ;  but  short-commons  proved  too  disagree- 
able, and  his  gentle  agitations  to  the  sound  of  the  fiddle, 
as  he  chassez'd,  coupez'd,  jetez'd,  and  balancez'd  only 
increased  his  appetite  and  added  to  his  sorrows.  Be- 
sides, his  landlady  threatened  to  discharge  him  for 
damaging  the  house,  and  alarming  the  sleepers  by  his 
midnight  repetitions  of  the  lessons  of  the  day.  As  he 
lav  in  bed  wakeful  with  thought,  he  would  suddenly,  as 
lie  Happened  to  remember  that  every  moment  was  of 
importance  for  the  reduction  of  his  dimensions,  slide  oui 
upon  the  floor,  and  make  tremendous  efforts  at  a  perform 


THE     FLESHY    ONE.  109 

ance  of  the  "  pigeon-wing,"  each  thump  resounding 
like  the  report  of  a  cannon,  and  causing  all  the  glasses 
in  the  row  to  rattle  as  if  under  the  influence  of  an  earth- 
quake. On  one  occasion  indeed — it  was  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning — the  whole  house  was  roused  by 
a  direful,  and,  until  then,  unusual  uproar  in  the  chamber 
of  Berry  Huckel — a  compound  of  unearthly  singing  and 
of  appalling  knocks  on  the  floor.  The  boldest,  having 
approached  the  door  to  listen,  applied  their  ears  to  the 
keyhole,  and  heard  as  follows  :  "  Turn  out  your  toes — 
forward  two — tol-de-rol-tiddle  (thump) — tiddle  (bump) — 
twiddle  (bang!) — cross  over — tiddle  (whack) — twiddle 
(smack) — tiddle  (crack) — twiddle  (bang!)" 

(Rap!  rap!  rap!)  "  Good  gracious,  Mr.  Huckel,  what's 
the  meaning  of  all  this  ? — are  you  crazy  ?" 

"  No,  I'm  dancing — balancez! — tiddle  (bump) — tiddle 
(thump} — tiddle  (bang!)" 

Crash  !  splash  !  went  the  basin-stand,  and  the  boarders 
rushing  in,  found  Berry  Huckel  in  "  the  garb  of  old 
Gaul,"  stumbling  amid  the  fragments  he  had  caused  by 
his  devotions  to  the  graces.  He  was  in  disgrace  for  a 
week,  and  always  laboured  under  the  imputation  of 
having  been  a  little  non-com  on  that  occasion  ;  /but  with 
love  to  urge  him  on,  what  is  there  that  man  will  no: 
strive  to  accomplish  ? 

****** 

Berry's  dancing  propensity  led  him  to  various  balls 
and  hops ;  and  on  one  of  these  occasions,  he  met  Miss 
Scraggs  in  all  her  glory,  but  as  disdainful  as  ever. 
After  bowing  to  her  with  that  respectful  air,  which 
intimated  that  the  heart  he  carried,  though  lacerated  by 
her  conduct,  was  still  warm  with  affection,  he  took  a 
little  weak  lemonade,  which,  as  he  expressed  it,  was  the 
appropriate  tipple  for  gentlemen  in  his  situation,  and  then 


110  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

placed  himself  immediately  under  the  fiddlers,  leaning 
against  the  wall  in  a  despairing  attitude,  arms  carelessly 
crossed,  a  handkerchief  dangling  negligently  from  his 
little  finger,  his  mouth  half  open,  and  his  eyes  now  fixed 
with  resignation  upon  the  ceiling,  and  anon  dropping 
misanthropically  to  the  ground.  The  tout  ensemble 
was  touching  in  the  extreme,  but  Miss  Scraggs  only 
smiled  derisively  when  her  eyes  fell  upon  her  dejected 
lover 

Berry,  however,  finding  that  this  would  not  do,  cheered 
himself  with  wine,  and  danced  furiously  at  every  oppor- 
tunity. Gracefully  glided  the  dancers,  merrily  twinkled 
their  feet,  and  joyously  squeaked  the  fiddles,  as  Berry, 
late  in  the  evening,  panting  with  his  previous  Terpsi- 
chorean  exertions,  resolved  to  have  a  chat  with  the  obdu- 
rate Seraphina,  and  solicited  the  honour  of  her  fair  hand 
for  the  next  set. 

"  Mons'us  warm,  miss,"  said  Berry,  by  way  of  open- 
ing the  conversation  in  a  novel  and  peculiarly  elegant 
way,  "  mons'us  warm,  and  dancing  makes  itmons'usser." 

"  Very  mons'us,"  replied  Miss  Scraggs,  glancing  at 
him  from  head  to  foot  with  rather  a  satirical  look,  for 
Miss  Scraggs  is  disposed  to  set  up  for  a  wit ;  "  very 
mons'us,  indeed.  But  you  look  warm,  Mr.  Huckel— 
hadn't  you  better  try  a  little  punch  ?  It  will  agree  with 
your  figure." 

"  Punch  !"  exclaimed  Berry,  in  dismay,  as  he  started 
back  three  steps — "  Oh,  Judy  !" 

He  rushed  to  the  refreshment  room  to  cool  his  fever- 
he  snatched  his  hat  from  its  dusky  guardian,  forgetting 
to  give  him  a  "  levy,"  and  hurriedly  departed. 

It  was  not  many  hours  afterwards  that  Berry — his  love 
undiminished,  and  his  knowledge  refreshed  that  gymnas- 
tics are  a  remedy  against  exuberance  of  flesh — was  seei 


THE    FLESHY    ONE.  Ill 

with  his  hat  upon  a  stepping  stone  in  front  of  a  house  in 
Chestnut  street,  labouring  with  diligence  at  jumping  over 
both  the  stone  and  the  chapeau.  But  the  heaviness  of 
his  heart  seemed  to  rob  his  muscles  of  their  elasticity. 
He  failed  at  each  effort,  and  kicked  his  hat  into  the 
middle  of  the  street. 

"  Phew  !"  said  he,  "  my  hat  will  be  ruinationed  to 
all  intents  and  purposes.  Oh  !  if  I  wasn't  so  fat,  I  might 
be  snoozing  it  off  at  the  rate  of  nine  knots  instead  of 
tiring  myself  to  death.  Fat  ain't  of  no  use,  but  on  the 
contrary.  Fat  horses,  tat  cows,  and  fat  sheep  are  respected 
accordin',  but  fat  men  are  respected  disaccordin'.  Folks 
laugh — the  gals  turn  up  their  noses,  and  Miss  Scraggs 
punches  my  feelings  with  a  personal  insinuation.  Punch  ! 
oh  my ! — It's  tiresome,  to  be  sure,  to  jump  over  this  'ere, 
but  it's  a  good  deal  tiresomer  to  be  so  jolly  you  can't  jump 
at  all,  and  can't  even  jump  into  a  lady's  affeckshins.  So 
here's  at  it  agin.  Warn'ee  wunst !  warn'ee  twy'st ! 
warn'ee  three  times — all  the  way  home  !' 

Berry  stooped  low,  swinging  his  arms  with  a  pendu- 
lum motion  at  each  exclamation,  and  was  about  assuming 
the  salient  attitude  of  the  pound  of  butter  which  Daw- 
kins,  for  want  of  a  heavier  missile,  threw  at  his  wife,  when 
he  was  suddenly  checked  by  the  arrival  of  a  fellow 
boarder,  who  exclaimed,  "Why,  Berry,  what  are  you  at?" 

"Don't  baulk,  good  man — I  say,  don't  baulk — but  now 
you  have  done  it,  can  you  jump  over  that  'ere  hat,  fair 
standing  jump,  with  a  brick  in  each  hand — none  of  your 
long  runs  and  hop  over  ? — kin  you  do  it  ? — answer  me 
that !"  queried  B'erry,  as  he  blew  in  his  hands,  and  then 
commenced  flapping  his  arms  a  la  wood-sawyer. 

"  Perhaps  I  might — but  it  won't  do  for  us  to  be  cutting 
rustics  here  at  this  time  o'  night.  You  had  better  sing 
mighty  small,  I  tell  you." 


112  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

1  Pooh  !  pooh  !  don't  be  redickalis.  The  doctor  says 
if  I  don't  exercise,  I'll  be  smothered  ;  and  Miss  Scraggs 
called  me  punch,  and  won't  have  me — I'm  jumping  for 
my  life,  and  for  my  wife  too." 

"  You  d  better  go  prentice  to  Jeames  Crow,"  said 
his  friend  Brom,  dryly,  "  and  learn  the  real  scienti- 
fics." 

"  It  would  make  me  laugh,"  replied  Berry,  gravely  ; 
"  such  as  you  can  afford  to  laugh  and  get  fat,  but  I 
can't.  I've  jumped  six  fireplugs  a'  ready,  and  I'll  jump 
over  that  'ere  hat  before  I  go  home — I'm  be  blowed  out 
bigger  if  I  don't.  Now  squat,  Brom — squat  down,  and 
see  if  I  go  fair.  Warn'ee  wunst — " 

"  You're  crazy  !"  answered  Brom,  losing  all  patience, 
"  you're  a  downright  noncompusser.  I  haven't  seen  a 
queerer  fellow  since  the  times  of  '  Zacchy  in  the  meal- 
bag;'  and  if  you  go  on  as  you  have  lately,  it's  my 
opinion  that  your  relations  shouldn't  let  you  run  at 
large." 

"  That's  what  I  complain  of — I  can't  run  any  other 
way  than  at  large  ;  but  if  you'll  let  me  alone,  I'll  try  to 
jump  myself  smaller.  So  clear  out,  skinny,  and  let  me 
practyse.  Warn'ee  wunst ! — " 

"  You'd  better  come  home,  and  make  no  bones  about 
it." 

"  Bones  !  I  ain't  got  any.  I'm  a  boned  turkey.  If 
you  do  make  me  go  home,  you  can't  say  you  boned  me. 
I've  seen  the  article,  but  I  never  had  any  bones  myself." 

This  was,  to  all  appearance,  true  enough,  but  his 
persecutor  did  not  take  the  joke.  Berry  is,  in  a  certain 
sense,  good  stock.  He  would  yield  a  fat  dividend  ;  but. 
though  so  well  incorporated,  no  "  bone-us"  for  the-  pri 
vilege  is  forthcoming. 


THE    FLESHY    ONE.  113 

"  Yes,  you're  fat  enough,  and  I'm  sorry  to  say,  you're 
queer  enough  too  ;  queer  is  hardly  a  name  for  you.  You 
must  be  taken  care  of,  and  go  home  at  once,  or  I'll  call 
assistance." 

«  Well,  if  I  must,  I  must — that's  all.  But  if  I  get  the 
popperplexy,  and  don't  get  Miss  Scraggs,  it's  all  your 
fault.  You  won't  let  me  dance  in  my  chamber — you 
won't  let  me  jump  over  my  hat — you  won't  let  me  do 
nothing.  I  can't  get  behind  the  counter  to  tend  the  custom- 
ers, without  most  backing  the  side  of  the  house  out ; 
but  what  do  you  care  ? — and  now  you  want  me  to  get 
fatter  by  going  to  sleep.  By  drat  I  I  wouldn't  wonder 
if  I  was  to  be  ten  pounds  heavier  in  the  morning.  If  I 
am,  in  the  first  place,  I'll  charge  you  for  widening  me  and 
spoiling  my  clothes ;  and  then — for  if  I  get  fatter,  Miss 
Scraggs  won't  have  me  a  good  deal  more  than  she  won't 
now,  and  my  hopes  and  affeckshins  will  be  blighteder  than 
they  are  at  this  present  sitting — why,  then,  I'll  sue  you 
for  breach  of  promise  of  marriage." 

"  Come  along.  There's  too  many  strange  people 
running  about  already.  It's  time  you  were  thinned  off." 

"  That's  jist  exactly  what  I  want ;  I  wish  you  could  thin 
me  off,"  sobbed  Berry,  as  he  obeyed  the  order ;  but  he 
was  no  happier  in  the  morning.  Miss  Seraphina  Scraggs 
continues  obdurate,  for  her  worst  fears  are  realized.  He 
etill  grows  fatter,  though  practising  "  warn'ec  wunst" 
at  all  convenient  opportunities. 
138 


I  114) 


GARDEN  THEATRICALS. 


MAN  is  an  imitative  animal,  and  consequently,  the 
distinguished  success  which  has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  a  few 
of  our  countrymen  in  the  theatrical  profession,  has  had 
a  great  effect  in  creating  longings  for  histrionic  honours. 
Of  late  years,  debuts  have  been  innumerable,  and  it 
would  be  a  more  difficult  task  than  that  prescribed  by 
Orozimbo — "  to  count  the  leaves  of  yonder  forest" — 
if  any  curious  investigator,  arguing  from  known  to 
unknown  quantities,  were  to  undertake  the  computation 
of  the  number  of  Roscii  who  have  not  as  yet  been  abl 
to  effect  their  coup  d'essai.  In  this  quiet  city — many 
as  she  has  already  given  to  the  boards — multitudes  are 
yet  to  be  found,  burning  with  ardour  to  "  walk  the 
plank,"  who,  in  their  prospective  dreams,  nightly  hear 
the  timbers  vocal  with  their  mighty  tread,  and  snuff  the 
breath  of  immortality  in  the  imaginary  dust  which 
answers  to  the  shock.  The  recesses  of  the  town  could 
furnish  forth  hosts  of  youths  who  never  thrust  the  left 
hand  into  a  Sunday  boot,  preparatory  to  giving  it  the  last 
polish,  without  jerking  up  the  leg  thereof  with  a  Kean- 
like  scowl,  and  sighing  to  think  that  it  is  not  the  well 
buffed  gauntlet  of  crook'd  Richard — lads,  who  never  don 
their  night  gear  for  repose,  without  striding  thus  attired 
across  their  narrow  dormitory,  and  for  the  nonce,  be- 
lieving themselves  accoutred  to  "go  on"  for  Rolla,  01 


GARDEN    THEATRICALS.  115 

the  Pythagorean  of  Syracuse — two  gentlemen  who  pro- 
menade in  "  cutty  sarks,"  and  are  as  indifferent  about 
rheumatism  as  a  Cupid  horsed  upon  a  cloud. 

But  in  the  times  of  which  we  speak,  stage-struck 
heroes  were  r^ire.  The  theatrical  mania  was  by  no 
means  prevalent.  It  went  and  came  like  the  influ 
enza,  sometimes  carrying  off  its  victims ;  but  they 
were  not  multitudinous.  Our  actors  were  chiefly  im- 
portations. The  day  of  native  talent  was  yet  in  the 
gray  of  its  morning — a  few  streakings  or  so,  among  the 
Tressels  and  Tyrells,  but  nothing  tip-topping  it  in  the 
zenith.  There  are,  however,  few  generalities  without 
an  exception,  and  in  those  days,  Theodosius  Spoon  had 
the  honour  to  prove  the  rule  by  being  an  instance  to  the 
contrary. 

Theodosius  Spoon — called  by  the  waggish  Tea-spoon, 
and  supposed  by  his  admirers  to  be  born  for  a  stirring 
fellow — one  who  would  whirl  round  until  he  secured  for 
himself  a  large  share  of  the  sugar  of  existence — Theo- 
dosius Spoon  was  named  after  a  Roman  emperor — not 
by  traditional  nomenclature,  which  modifies  the  effect  of 
the  thing,  but  directly,  "  out  of  a  history  book"  abridged 
by  Goldsmith.  It  having  been  ascertained,  in  the  first 
place,  that  the  aforesaid  potentate,  with  the  exception  of 
having  massacred  a  few  thousand  innocent  people  one 
day,  was  a  tolerably  decent  fellow  for  a  Roman  empe- 
ror, he  was  therefore  complimented  by  having  his  name 
bestowed  upon  a  Spoon.  It  must  not,  however,  be 
thought  that  the  sponsors  were  so  sanguine  as  to  enter- 
tain a  hope  that  their  youthful  charge  would  ever  reach 
the  purple.  Their  aspirations  did  not  extend  so  far ;  but 
being  moderate  in  their  expectations,  they  acted  on  the 
sound  and  well  established  principle  that,  as  fine  feathers 
make  fine  birds,  fine  names,  to  a  certain  extent,  must 


116  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

have  an  analogous  effect — that  our  genius  should  be 
educed,  as  it  were,  by  the  appellation  bestowed  upon 
us ;  and  that  we  should  be  so  sagaciously  designated  that 
to  whatever  height  fortune  leads,  fame,  in  speaking  of 
us,  may  have  a  comfortable  mouthful,  and  we  have  no 
cause  under  any  circumstances  to  blush  for  our  name. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spoon — wise  people  in  their  way — rea- 
soned in  the  manner  referred  to.  They  were  satisfied 
that  a  sonorous  handle  to  one's  patronymic  acts  like  a 
balloon  to  its  owner,  and  that  an  emaciated,  every-day, 
threadbare  cognomen — a  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  denomi- 
nation— is  a  mere  dipsey,  and  must  keep  a  man  at  the 
bottom.  Coming  to  the  application  of  the  theory,  they 
were  satisfied  that  the  homely  though  useful  qualities 
of  the  spoon  would  be  swallowed  up  in  the  superior 
attributes  of  Theodosius.  That  this  worthy  pair  were 
right  in  the  abstract  is  a  self-evident  proposition.  Who, 
tor  instance,  can  meet  with  a  Napoleon  Bonaparte  Mugg, 
without  feeling  that  when  the  said  Mugg  is  emptied  of 
its  spirit,  a  soul  will  have  exhaled,  which,  had  the  gate 
of  circumstance  opened  the  way,  would  have  played 
foot-ball  with  monarchs,  and  have  wiped  its  brogues 
upon  empires  ?  An  Archimedes  Pipps  is  clearly  born  to 
be  a  "  screw,"  and  to  operate  extensively  with  "  burning 
glasses,"  if  not  upon  the  fleets  of  a  Marcellus,  at  least 
upon  his  own  body  corporate.  While  Franklin  Fipps, 
if  in  the  mercantile  line,  is  pretty  sure  to  be  a  great  flier 
of  kites,  and  a  speculator  in  vapours,  and  such  like  fancy 
stocks.  If  the  Slinkums  call  their  boy  Caesar,  it  follows 
as  a  natural  consequence  that  the  puggish  disposition  of 
the  family  nose  will,  in  his  case,  gracefully  curve  into  the 
aquiline,  and  that  the  family  propensity  for  the  Fabian 
method  of  getting  out  of  a  scrape,  will  be  Caesarised  into 
a  valour,  which  at  its  very  aspect  would  set  "  all  Ga  ' 


GARDEN    THEATRICALS.  117 

into  a  quake.  Who  can  keep  little  Diogenes  Doubikens 
out  of  a  tub,  or  prevent  him  from  scrambling  into  a 
hogshead,  especially  if  sugar  is  to  be  gathered  in  the 
interior  ?  Even  Chesterfield  Gruff  is  half  disposed  to  be 
civil,  if  he  thinks  he  can  gain  by  so  unnatural  a  course 
of  proceeding ;  and  everybody  is  aware  that  Crichton 
Dunderpate  could  do  almost  any  thing,  if  he  knew  how, 
and  if,  by  a  singular  fatality,  all  his  fingers  were  not 
thumbs. 

Concurrent  testimony  goes  to  prove  that  the  son  of  a 
great  man  is  of  necessity  likewise  great — the  children  of 
a  blanchisseuse,  or  of  a  house-scrubber,  have  invariably 
clean  hands  and  faces ;  schoolmasters  are  very  careful 
to  imbue  their  offspring  with  learning;  and,  if  we  are  not 
mistaken,  it  has  passed  into  a  proverb  that  the  male  pro- 
geny of  a  clergyman,  in  general,  labour  hard  for  the 
proud  distinction-  of  being  called  "  hopeful  youths  and 
promising  youngsters."  The  corollary,  therefore,  flows 
from  this,  as  smoothly  as  water  from  a  hydrant,  that  he 
who  borrows  an  illustrious  name  is  in  all  probability 
charged  to  the  brim,  ipso  facto,  with  the  qualities  whereby 
the  real  owner  was  enabled  to  render  it  illustrious — qua- 
lities, which  only  require  opportunity  and  the  true  posi- 
tion to  blaze  up  in  spontaneous  combustion,  a  beacon  to 
the  world.  And  thus  Theodosius  Spoon,  in  his  course 
through  life,  could  scarcely  be  otherwise  than,  if  not  an 
antique  Roman,  at  least  an  "  antic  rum  'un  ;"  his  spheie 
of  action  might  be  circumscribed,  but  he  could  not"  do 
otherwise  than  make  a  figure. 

Our  Spoon — his  parents  being  satisfied  with  giving 
him  an  euphonious  name — was  early  dipped  into  the  broad 
bowl  of  the  world  to  spoon  for  himself.  He  was  appren- 
ticed to  a  shoemaker  to  learn  the  art  and  mystery  of 
stretching  "  uppers"  and  of  shaping  "  unders."  But.. 


118  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

for  this  employment,  as  it  was  merely  useful  and  some- 
what laborious,  he  had  no  particular  fancy.  Whether  it 
was  owing  to  the  influence  of  his  name  or  not,  we  cannot 
pretend  to  say,  but,  like  Jaffier  and  many  other  worthy 
individuals,  he  was  much  troubled  with  those  serious  in- 
conveniences termed  "  elegant  desires."  Young  as  he 
was,  his  talent  for  eating  was  aldermanic ;  aristocracy 
itself  might  have  envied  his  somnolent  performances  in 
the  morning  j  while,  if  fun  or  mischief  were  afoot,  no 
watch  dog  could  better  encounter  prolonged  vigils,  and 
no  outlying  cat  could  more  silently  and  skilfully  crawl 
in  at  a  back  window  than  he,  when  returning  from  his 
nocturnal  perambulations.  His  genius  for  lounging,  like- 
wise, when  he  should  have  been  at  work,  was  as  re 
markable  as  his  time-consuming  power  when  sent  on  an 
errand.  He  could  seem  to  do  more,  and  yet  perform  less, 
than  any  lad  of  his  inches  in  the  town ;  and,  being  ordered 
out  on  business,  it  was  marvellous  to  see  the  swiftness 
with  which  he  left  the  shop,  and  the  rapidity  of  his  im- 
mediate return  to  it,  contrasted  with  the  great  amount  of 
time  consumed  in  the  interval.  With  these  accomplish- 
ments, it  is  not  surprising  that  Theodosius  Spoon  was 
discontented  with  his  situation.  He  yearned  to  be  an 
embellishment — not  a  plodding  letter,  valuable  only 
in  combination,  but  an  ornamental  flourish,  beautiful 
and  graceful  in  itself;  and,  with  that  self-reliance  pecu- 
liar to  genius,  he  thought  that  the  drama  opened  a  short 
cut  to  the  summit  of  his  desires.  Many  a  time,  as  he 
leaned  his  elbow  on  the  lapstone,  and  reposed  his  chin 
upon  his  palm,  did  his  work  roll  idly  to  the  floor, 
while  he  gazed  with  envious  eyes  through  the  window 
at  the  playbills  which  graced  the  opposite  corner,  and 
hoped  that  the  time  would  come  when  the  first  night  of 
Theodosius  Spoon  would  be  thereupon  announced  in 


GARDEN    THEATRICALS.  11'9 

tetters  as  large  as  if  he  were  a  histrionic  ladle.  Visions 
of  glory — of  crowded  houses — of  thundering  plaudits — 
of  full  pockets — of  pleasant  nights,  and  of  day  lounges  up 
and  down  Chestnut  street,  the  wonder  of  little  hoys  and 
the  focus  of  all  eyes, — floated  vividly  across  his  imagina- 
tion. How  could  he,  who  bore  the  name  of  a  Roman 
emperor,  dream  of  being  elsewhere  that  at  the  topmost 
round  of  fortune's  ladder,  when  he  had  seen  others  there, 
who,  subjected  to  mental  comparison,  were  mere  rush- 
lights compared  to  himself? 

Filled  with  these  gorgeous  imaginings,  our  Spoon 
became  metamorphosed  into  a  spout,  pouring  forth 
streams  of  elocution  by  night  and  by  day,  and,  though 
continually  corking  his  frontispiece  to  try  the  expression 
in  scenes  of  wrath,  it  soon  becante  evident  that  his 
powers  could  not  remain  bottled  in  a  private  station. 
When  a  histrionic  inclination  ferments  so  noisily  that  it* 
fizzling  disturbs  the  neighbourhood,  it  requires  littl'i 
knowledge  of  chemistry  to  decide  that  it  must  have  vent, 
or  an  explosion  will  be  the  consequence  ;  and  such  was 
the  case  in  the  instance  of  which  we  speak.  The 
oratorical  powers  of  Theodosius  Spoon  were  truly 
terrible,  and  had  become,  during  the  occasional  absence 
of  the  "  boss,"  familiar  to  every  one  within  a  square. 

An  opportunity  soon  afforded  itself. — Those  Philadel- 
phians,  who  were  neither  too  old  nor  too  young,  when 
Theodosius  Spoon  flourished,  to  take  part  in  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  town,  do  not  require  to  be  told  that  for  the 
delectation  of  their  summer  evenings,  the  city  then 
rejoiced  in  a  Garden  Theatre,  which  was  distinguished 
from  the  winter  houses  by  the  soft  Italian  appellation  of 
the  Tivoli.  It  was  located  in  Market  near  Broad  street, 
in  those  days  a  species  of  rus  in  urbe,  improvement 
not  having  taken  its  westward  movement ;  and  before  it* 


120  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

brilliancy  was  foi  ever  extinguished,  the  establishment 
passed  through  a  variety  of  fortunes,  furnishing  to  the 
public  entertainment  as  various,  and  giving  to  the  stage 
many  a  "  regular"  whose  first  essay  was  made  upon  its 
boards. 

At  this  period,  so  interesting  to  all  who  study  the 
history  of  the  drama,  lived  one  Typus  Tympan,  a 
printer's  devil,  who  "  cronied"  with  Spoon,  and  had  been 
the  first  to  give  the  "  reaching  of  his  soul"  an  inclination 
stageward.  Typus  worked  in  a  newspaper  office,  where 
likewise  the  bills  of  the  Garden  Theatre  were  printed, 
and,  par  consequence,  Typus  was  a  critic,  with  the 
entree  of  the  establishment,  and  an  occasional  order  for 
a  friend.  It  was  thus  that  Spoon's  genius  received  the 
Promethean  spark,  and  started  into  life.  By  the  patron- 
ising attentions  of  Typus,  he  was  no  longer  compelled 
to  gaze  from  afar  at  the  members  of  the  company  as  they 
clustered  after  rehearsal,  of  a  sunny  day,  in  front  of  the 
theatre,  and  varied  their  smookings  by  transitions  from 
the  "long  nine"  to  the  real  Habana,  according  to  the 
condition  of  the  treasury,  or  the  state  of  the  credit  system. 
Our  hero  now  nodded  familiarly  to  them  all,  and  by  dint 
of  soleing,  heel-tapping,  and  other  small  jobs  in  the  leather 
way,  executed  during  the  periods  of  "  overwork"  for  Mr. 
Julius  Augustus  Winkins,  was  admitted  to  the  personal 
friendship  of  that  illustrious  individual.  Some  idea  of  the 
honour  thus  conferred  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact 
that  Mr.  Winkins  himself  constituted  the  entire  male 
department  of  the  operatic  corps  of  the  house.  He 
grumbled  the  bass,  he  warbled  the  tenor,  and,  when 
necessary,  could  squeak  the  "  counter"  in  beautiful  per 
fection.  All  that  troubled  this  magazine  of  vocalism 
was  that,  although  he  could  manage  a  duet  easily  enough, 
soliloquizing  a  chorus  was  rather  beyond  his  capacity,  and 


GARDEN    THEATRICALS.  121 

He  was,  therefore,  often  compelled  to  rely  upon  the 
audience  at  the  Garden,  who,  to  their  credit  be  it  spoken, 
scarcely  needed  a  hint  upon  such  occasions.  On  opera 
nights,  they  generally  volunteered  their  services  to  fill 
out  the  harmony,  and  were  so  abundantly  obliging,  that 
it  was  difficult  to  teach  them  where  to  stop.  In  his 
private  capacity — when  he  was  exofficio  Winkins — he  did 
the  melancholico-Byronic  style  of  man — picturesque,  but 
"  suffering  in  his  innards," — to  the  great  delight  of  all  the 
young  ladies  who  dwelt  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Garden. 
When  he  walked  forth,  it  was  with  his  slender  frame 
inserted  in  a  suit  of  black  rather  the  worse  for  wear,  but 
still  retaining  a  touching  expression,  softened,  but  not 
weakened,  by  the  course  of  time.  He  wore  his  shirt 
collars  turned  down  over  a  kerchief  in  the  "  fountain 
tie,"  about  which  there  is  a  Tyburn  pathos,  irresistible 
to  a  tender  heart;  and  with  his  well  oiled  and  raven 
locks  puffed  out  en  masse  on  the  left  side  of  his  head, 
he  declined  his  beaver  over  his  dexter  eye  until  its  brim 
kissed  the  corresponding  ear.  A  profusion  of  gilt  chain 
travelled  over  his  waistcoat,  and  a  multitude  of  rings  of 
a  dubious  aspect  encumbered  his  fingers.  In  this  inte- 
resting costume  did  Julius  Augustus  Winkins,  in  his 
leisure  moments,  play  the  abstracted,  as  he  leaned  grace- 
fully against  the  pump,  while  obliquely  watching  the 
effect  upon  the  cigar-making  demoiselles  who  operated 
over  the  way,  and  who  regarded  Julius  as  quite  a  love, 
decidedly  the  romantic  thing. 

Winkins  was  gracious  to  Spoon,  partly  on  the  account 
aforesaid,  and  because  both  Spoon  and  Tympan  were 
capital  claqueurs,  and  invariably  secured  him  an  encore, 
when  he  warbled  "  Love  has  eyes,"  and  the  other 
rational  ditties  in  vogue  at  that  period. 

Now  it  happened  that  business  was  rather  dull  at  the 


122  CHARCOAL    SKI'TCHES. 

Garden,  and  the  benefit  season  of  course  commenced. 
The  hunting  up  of  novelties  was  prosecuted  with  great 
vigour ;  even  the  learned  pig  had  starred  at  it  for  once  ; 
and  as  the  Winkins  night  approached,  Julius  Augustus 
determined  to  avail  himself  of  Spoon  for  that  occasion, 
thinking  him  likely  to  draw,  if  he  did  not  succeed,  for  in 
those  days  of  primitive  simplicity  first  appearances  had 
not  ceased  to  be  attractive.  The  edge  not  being  worn 
off,  they  were  sure  to  be  gratifying,  either  in  one  way 
or  the  other. 

It  was  of  a  warm  Sunday  afternoon  that  this  important 
matter  was  broached.  Winkins,  Spoon,  and  Tympan 
sat  solacing  themselves  in  a  box  at  the  Garden, 
puffing  their  cigars,  sipping  their  liquid  refreshment,  and 
occasionally  nibbling  at  three  crackers  brought  in  upon 
a  large  waiter,  which  formed  the  substantials  of  the 
entertainment.  The  discourse  ran  upon  the  drama. 

"  Theo,  my  boy  !"  said  Winkins,  putting  one  leg  on 
the  table,  and  allowing  the  smoke  to  curl  about  his  nose, 
as  he  cast  his  coat  more  widely  open,  and  made  the 
accost  friendly. 

"  Spoon,  my  son!"  said  Winkins,  being  the  advance 
paternal  of  that  social  warrior,  as  he  knocked  the  ashes 
from  his  cigar  with  a  flirt  of  his  little  finger. 

"  Spooney,  my  tight  'un  !" — the  assault  irresistible, — 
"  how  would  you  like  to  go  it  in  uncle  Billy  Shakspeare, 
and  tip  the  natives  the  last  hagony  in  the  tragics  ?" 
Winkins  put  his  other  leg  on  the  table,  assuming  an 
attitude  both  of  superiority  and  encouragement. 

"Oh,  gammin!"  ejaculated  Spoon, blushing,  smiling, 
and  putting  the  forefinger  of  his  left  hand  into  his  mouth. 
"Oh,  get  out!"  continued  he,  casting  down  his  eyes 
with  the  modest  humility  of  untried,  yet  self-satisfied 
genius. 


GARDEN*     THEATRICALS.  123 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it — I'm  as  serious  as  an  empty  bam— - 
got  the  genius — want  the  chance — my  benefit — two  acts 
of  any  thing — cut  mugs — up  to  snuff — down  upon  'em—- 
fortune made — that's  the  go." 

"  It's  our  opinion, — we  think,  Theodosius,"  observed 
Typns  Tympan,  with  editorial  dignity,  as  he  emphati- 
cally drew  his  cuff  across  the  lower  part  of  his  counte- 
nance, "  we  think,  and  the  way  we  know  what's  what, 
because  of  our  situation,  is  sing'ler — standing,  as  we 
newspaper  folks  do,  on  the  shot  tower  of  society — that 
now's  your  time  for  gittin'  astraddle  of  public  opinion, 
and  for  ridin'  it  like  a  hoss.  Jist  such  a  chance  as 
you've  been  wantin'.  As  the  French  say,  all  the  bew 
mundy  come  to  Winkins's  benefit ;  and  if  the  old  man 
won't  go  a  puff  leaded,  why  we'll  see  to  havin'  it  sneaked 
in,  spread  so  thick  about  genius  and  all,  that  it  will 
draw  like  a  blister — we  will,  even  if  we  get  licked  for  it." 

"  'Twon't  do,"  simpered  Spoon,  as  he  blushed  brown, 
while  the  expression  of  his  countenance  contradicted  his 
words.  "  'Twon't  do.  How  am  I  to  get  a  dress — s'pose 
boss  ketches  me  at  it?  Besides,  I'm  too  stumpy  for 
tragedy,  and  anyhow  I  must  wait  till  I'm  cured  of  my 
cold." 

"It  will  do,"  returned  Winkins,  decisively  "and 
tragedy's  just  the  thing.  There  are,  sir,  varieties  in  tra- 
gedy— by  the  new  school,  it's  partitioned  off  in  two 
grand  divisions.  High  tragedy  of  the  most  helevated 
description,"  (Winkins  always  haspirated  when  desirous 
of  being  emphatic,)  "high  tragedy  of  the  most  helevated 
and  hexalted  kind  should  be  represented  by  a  gentleman 
short  of  statue,  and  low  comedy  should  be  sustained  by 
a  gentleman  tall  of  statue.  In  the  one  case,  the  higher 
the  part,  the  lowerer  the  hactor,  and  in  the  other  case, 
ivisey  wersy.  It  makes  light  and  shade  between  the 


124  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

sentiment  and  the  performer,  and  jogs  the  attention  by 
me  power  of  contrast.  The  hintellectual  style  of  play- 
ing likewise  requires  crooked  legs." 

"  We  think,  then,  our  friend  is  decidedly  calkilated  to 
walk  into  the  public.  There's  a  good  deal  of  circum- 
bendibus about  Spoon's  gams — he's  got  serpentine  trot- 
ters— splendid  for  crooked  streets,  or  goin'  round  a  cor- 
ner," interpolated  Typus,  jocularly. 

"  There's  brilliancy  about  crooked  legs,"  continued 
Winkins,  with  a  reproving  glance  at  Typus.  "  The  mo- 
notony of  straight  shanks  answers  well  enough  for  genteel 
comedy  and  opera  ;  but  corkscrew  legs  prove  the  mind 
to  be  too  much  for  the  body  ;  therefore,  crooked  legs, 
round  shoulders,  and  a  shovel  nose  for  the  heccentrici- 
ties  of  the  hintellectual  tragics.  Audiences  must  have 
it  queered  into  'em  ;  and  as  for  a  bad  cold,  why  it's  a 
professional  blessing  in  that  line  of  business,  and  saves  a 
tragedian  the  trouble  of  sleeping  in  a  wet  shirt  to  get  a 
sore  throat.  Blank  verse,  to  be  himpressive,  must  be 
trogged — it  must  be  groaned,  grunted,  and  gasped — bring 
it  out  like  a  three-pronged  grinder,  as  if  body  and  soul 
were  parting.  There's  nothing  like  asthmatic  elocution 
and  spasmodic  emphasis,  for  touching  the  sympathies  and 
setting  the  feelings  on  edge.  A  terrier  dog  in  a  pucker 
is  a  good  study  for  anger,  and  always  let  the  spectators 
see  that  sorrow  hurts  you.  There's  another  style  of  tra- 
gedy— the  physical  school — " 

"  That  must  be  a  dose,"  ejaculated  Typus,  who  was 
developing  into  a  wag. 

"  But  you're  not  big  enough,  or  strong  enough  for 
that.  A  physical  must  be  able  to  outmuscle  ten  black- 
smiths, and  bite  the  head  off  a  poker.  He  must  com 
mence  the  play  hawfully,  and  keep  piling  on  the  hagony 
till  the  close,  when  he  must  keel  up  in  an  hexcruciating 


GARDEN    THEATRICALS.  125 

manner,  flip-flopping  it  about  the  stage  as  he  defuncts, 
,ike  a  new  caught  sturgeon.  He  should  be  able  to  hago- 
nize  other  people  too,  by  taking  the  biggest  fellow  in  the 
company  by  the  scuff  of  the  neck,  and  shaking  him  at 
arm's  length  till  all  the  hair  drops  from  his  head,  and 
then  pitch  him  across,  with  a  roar  loud  enough  to  break 
the  windows.  That's  the  menagerie  method.  The  phy- 
sical must  always  be  on  the  point  of  bursting  his  boiler, 
yet  he  mustn't  burst  it ;  he  must  stride  and  jump  as  if  he 
would  tear  his  trousers,  yet  he  mustn't  tear  'em ;  and 
when  he  grabs  anybody,  he  must  leave  the  marks  of  his 
paws  for  a  week.  It's  smashing  work,  but  it  won't  do 
for  you,  Spooney ;  you're  little,  black-muzzled,  queer 
in  the  legs,  and  have  got  a  cold  ;  nature  and  sleeping  with 
the  windows  open  have  done  wonders  in  making  you  fit 
for  the  hintellectuals,  and  you  shall  tip  'em  the  senti- 
mental in  Hamlet." 

Parts  of  this  speech  were  not  particularly  gratifying 
to  Spoon  ;  but,  on  the  whole,  it  jumped  with  his  desires, 
and  the  matter  was  clinched.  Winkins  trained  him  ; 
taught  him  when  and  where  to  come  the  "  hagony  ;" 
when  and  where  to  cut  "  terrific  mugs"  at  the  pit ;  when 
and  where  to  wait  for  the  applause,  and  how  to  chassez 
an  exit,  with  two  stamps  and  a  spring,  and  a  glance 
en  arriere. 

Not  long  after,  the  puff  appeared  as  Typus  promised. 
The  bills  of  the  "  Garden  Theatre"  announced  the 
Winkins  benefit,  promising,  among  other  novelties,  the 
third  act  of  Hamlet,  in  which  a  young  gentleman,  his 
first  appearance  upon  any  stage,  would  sustain  the  cha- 
racter of  the  melancholy  prince.  Rash  promise !  fatal 
anticipation ! 

The  evening  arrived,  and  the  Garden  was  crowded. 
All  the  boys  of  the  trade  in  town  assembled  to  witness 


126  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

the  debut  of  a  brother  chip,  and  many  came  because  others 
were  coming.  Winkins,  in  a  blue  military  frock,  but- 
toned to  the  chin,  white  pantaloons  strapped  under  the 
foot,  and  gesticulating  with  a  shining  black  hat  with 
•white  lining,  borrowed  expressly  for  the  occasion,  had 
repeated  "  My  love  is  like  the  red,  red  rose"  with 
immense  applause,  when  the  curtain  rang  up,  and  the 
third  act  began. 

The  tedious  prattle  of  those  who  preceded  him  being 
over,  Theodosius  Spoon  appeared.  Solemnly,  yet  with 
parched  lips  and  a  beating  heart,  did  he  advance  to  the 
footlights,  and  duck  his  acknowledgments  for  the  applause 
which  greeted  him.  His  abord,  however,  did  not 
impress  his  audience  favourably.  The  black  attire  but 
ill  became  his  short  squab  figure,  and  the  "  hintellectual 
iragicality  of  his  legs,"  meandering  their  brief  extent, 
Uke  a  Malay  creese,  gave  him  the  aspect  of  an  Ethiopian 
Bacchus  dismounted  from  his  barrel.  Hamlet  resembled 
the  briefest  kind  of  sweep,  or  "  an  erect  black  tadpole 
taking  snuff." 

With  a  fidelity  to  nature  never  surpassed,  Hamlet 
expressed  his  dismay  by  scratching  his  head,  and,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  his  toes,  commenced  the  soliloquy, — 
another  beautiful  conception, — for  the  prince  is  supposed 
to  be  speaking  to  himself,  and  his  toes  are  as  well 
entitled  to  be  addressed  as  any  other  portion  of  his  per- 
sonal identity.  This,  however,  was  not  appreciated  by 
the  spectators,  who  were  unable  to  hear  any  part  of  the 
confidential  communication  going  on  between  Hamlet's 
extremities. 

"  Louder,  Spooney  !"  squeaked  a  juvenile  voice,  with 
a  villanous  twang,  from  a  remote  part  of  the  Garden. 
'  Keep  a  ladling  it  out  strong !  Who's  afeard  ? — it's  oulv 
old  Tiwoly  I" 


GARDEN    THEATRICALS.  127 

"  Throw  it  out !"  whispered  Winkins,  from  the  wing 
'*  Go  it  like  a  pair  of  bellowses  !" 

But  still  the  pale  lips  of  Theodosius  Spoon  continued 
quivering  nothings,  as  he  stood  gasping  as  if  about  to 
swallow  the  leader  of  the  fiddlers,  and  alternately  raising 
his  hands  like  a  piece  of  machinery.  Ophelia  advanced. 

"  Look  out,  bull-frog,  there  comes  your  mammy. 
Please,  ma'am,  make  little  sonny  say  his  lesson." 

Bursts  of  laughter,  shouts,  and  hisses  resounded 
through  the  Garden.  "  Whooror  for  Spooney  !"  roared 
his  friends,  as  they  endeavoured  to  create  a  diversion  in 
his  favcur — "  whooror  for  Spooney !  and  wait  till  the 
skeer  is  worked  off  uv  him  !" 

"How  vu'd  you  like  it?"  exclaimed  an  indignant 
Spooneyite  to  a  hissing  malcontent ;  "  how  vu'd  you 
.ike  it  fur  to  have  it  druv'  into  you  this  'ere  vay  ?  Vot  kin 
a  man  do  ven  he  ain't  got  no  chance  ?" 

As  the  hisser  did  buuhiss  the  more  vigorously  on 
account  of  the  remonstrance,  and,  jumping  up,  did  it 
directly  in  the  teeth  of  the  remonstrant,  the  friend  to 
Spooney  knocked  him  down,  and  theparquette  was  soon 
in  an  uproar.  "Leave  him  up  !"  cried  one — "Order  ! 
put  'em  down,  and  put  'em  out !"  The  aristocracy  of 
the  boxes  gazed  complacently  upon  the  grand  set-to 
beneath  them,  the  boys  whacked  away  with  their  clubs 
at  the  lamps,  and  hurled  the  fragments  upon  the  stage, 
while  Ophelia  and  Hamlet  ran  away  together. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  exclaimed  Winkins,  as  he 
rushed  upon  the  stage,  dragging  after  him  "  the  rose  and 
the  expectancy  of  the  fair  state,"  the  shrinking  Theo- 
dosius,— "  will  you  hear  me  for  a  moment?" 

"  Hurray  for  Vinkins !"  replied  a  brawny  critic, 
taking  his  club  in  both  hands,  as  he  hammered  against 
he  front  of  the  boxes ;  "  Vinkey,  sing  us  the  Bay  uv 


128  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

Viskey.  and  make  bull-frog  dance  a  hornspike  to  the  tune 
uv  it.  Hurray  !  Twig  Vinkey's  new  hat — make  a 
speech,  Vinkey,  fur  your  vite  trousers  !" 

At  length,  comparative  silence  being  restored,  Mr. 
Winkins,  red  with  wrath,  yet  suppressing  his  rage, 
delivered  himself  as  follows — at  times  adroitly  dodging 
the  candle  ends,  which  had  been  knocked  from  the  main 
chandelier,  and  were  occasionally  darted  at  him  and  his 
protege. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  permit  me  (dodge)  respect- 
fully to  ask  one  question.  Did  you  (dodge]  come  here 
to  admire  the  beauties  of  the  drama,  (successive  dodges  to 
the  right  and  left,]  or  am  I  to  (dodge,  dodge]  to  under- 
stand that  you  came  solely  to  kick  up  a  bloody  row  ?" 

The  effect  of  this  insinuating  query  had  scarcely  time 
to  manifest  itself,  before  Monsieur  le  directeur  en  chef,  a 
choleric  Frenchman,  who  made  a  profitable  mixture  of 
theatricals,  ice  cream,  and  other  refreshments,  suddenly 
appeared  in  the  flat,  foaming  with  natural  anger  at  the 
results  of  the  young  gentleman's  debut.  Advancing 
rapidly  as  the  "  kick"  rang  upon  his  ear,  he  suited  the 
action  to  the  word,  and,  by  a  dexterous  application  of  his 
foot,  sent  Winkins,  in  the  attitude  of  a  flying  Mercury, 
clear  of  the  orchestra,  into  the  midst  of  the  turbulent 
crowd  in  the  pit.  Three  rounds  of  cheering  followed  this 
achievement,  while  Theodosius  gazed  in  pallid  horror  at 
the  active  movement  of  his  friend. 

"Kick,  aha!  Is  zat  de  kick,  monsieur  dam  hoom 
boog  ?  Messieurs  et  mesdames,  lick  him  good — sump 
him  into  fee-penny  beets  !  Sacre  !"  added  the  enraged 
manager,  turning  toward  Theodosius,  "I  sail  lick  de 
petit  hoomboog  ver'  good — sump  him  bon,  nice,  moi 
rnem'e — by  me  ownsef." 

But   the    alarmed   Theodosius,   though   no   linguist, 


GARDEN    THEATRICALS.  129 

understood  enough  of  this  speech  not  to  tarry  for  the 
consequences,  and  climbing  into  the  boxes,  while  the 
angry  manager  clambered  after  him,  he  rushed  through 
the  crowd,  and  in  the  royal  robes  of  Denmark  hurried 
home. 

For  the  time,  at  least,  he  was  satisfied  that  bearing  the 
name  of  a  Roman  emperor  did  not  lead  to  instant  success 
on  the  stage,  and  though  he  rather  reproached  the 
audience  with  want  of  taste,  it  is  not  probable  that  he 
ever  repeated  the  attempt ;  for  he  soon,  in  search  of  an 
"  easy  life,"  joined  the  patriots  on  the  Spanish  main,  and 
was  never  after  heard  of. 
139 


(  130) 

PETER  BRUSH, 

THE    GREAT    USED    UP. 


It  was  November ;  soon  after  election  time,  when  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  political  world  are  apt  to  be 
despondent,  and  external  things  appear  to  do  their  utmost 
to  keep  them  so.  November,  the  season  of  dejection, 
when  pride  itself  loses  its  imperious  port ;  wh,en  ambi- 
tion gives  place  to  melancholy ;  when  beauty  hardly 
takes  the  trouble  to  look  in  the  glass  ;  and  when  exist- 
ence doffs  its  rainbow  hues,  and  wears  an  aspect  of  such 
dull,  commonplace  reality,  that  hope  leaves  the  world 
for  a  temporary  excursion,  and  those  who  cannot  do 
without  her  inspiring  presence,  borrow  the  aid  of  pistols, 
cords,  and  chemicals,  and  send  themselves  on  a  longer 
journey,  expecting  to  find  her  by  the  way  : — a  season, 
when  the  hair  will  not  stay  in  curl ;  when  the  walls  weep 
dewy  drops,  to  the  great  detriment  of  paper-hangings, 
and  of  every  species  of  colouring  with  which  they  are 
adorned ;  when  the  banisters  distil  liquids,  any  tiling 
but  beneficial  to  white  gloves ;  when  nature  fills  the 
ponds,  and  when  window-washing  is  the  only  species  of 
amusement  at  all  popular  among  housekeepers. 

It  was  on  the  worst  of  nights  in  that  worst  of  seasons. 
The  atmosphere  was  in  a  condition  of  which  it  is  difficult 
to  speak  with  respect,  much  as  we  may  be  disposed  to 
applaud  the  doings  of  nature.  It  was  damp,  foggy,  and 


PETER   BRUSH.  131 

drizzling ;  to  sum  up  its  imperfections  in  a  sonorous  and 
descriptive  epithet,  it  was  "  'orrid  muggy  weather."  The 
air  hung  about  the  wayfarer  in  warm,  unhealthy  folds, 
and  extracted  the  starch  from  his  shirt  collar  and  from 
the  bosom  of  his  dickey,  with  as  much  rapidity  as  it  rob- 
bed his  spirits  of  their  elasticity,  and  melted  the  sugar  of 
self-complacency  from  his  mind.  The  street  lamps 
emitted  a  ghastly  white  glare,  and  were  so  hemmed  in 
with  vapory  wreaths,  that  their  best  efforts  could  not 
project  a  ray  of  light  three  feet  from  the  burner.  Gloom 
was  universal,  and  any  change,  even  to  the  heat  of  Africa, 
or  to  the  frosts  of  the  arctic  circle,  would,  in  compari- 
son, have  been  delightful.  The  pigs'  tails  no  longer 
waved  in  graceful  sinuosities ;  while  the  tail  of  each 
night-roving,  hectoring  bull-dog  ceased  flaunting  toward 
the  clouds,  a  banner  of  wrath  and  defiance  to  punier  crea- 
tures, and  hung  down  drooping  and  dejected,  an  emblem 
of  a  heart  little  disposed  to  quarrel  and  offence.  The 
ornamentals  of  the  brute  creation  being  thusbelow  par, 
it  was  not  surprising  that  men,  with  cares  on  their  shoul- 
ders and  raggedness  in  their  trousers,  should  likewise 
be  more  melancholy  than  on  occasions  of  a  brighter 
character.  Every  one  at  all  subject  to  the  "  skiey  influ- 
ences," who  has  had  trouble  enough  to  tear  his  clothes, 
and  to  teach  him  that  the  staple  of  this  mundane  exist- 
ence is  not  exclusively  made  up  of  fun,  has  felt  that  phi- 
losophy is  but  a  barometrical  affair,  and  that  he  who  is 
proof  against  sorrow  when  the  air  is  clear  and  bracing, 
may  be  a  very  miserable  wretch,  with  no  greater  cause, 
when  the  wind  sits  in  another  quarter. 

Peter  Brush  is  a  man  of  this  susceptible  class.  His 
nervous  system  is  of  the  most  delicate  organization,  and 
responds  to  the  changes  of  the  weather,  as  an  Eolian 
harp  sings  to  the  fitful  swellings  of  the  breeze.  Peter 


132  CHARCOAL   SKETCHES. 

was  abroad  on  the  night  of  which  we  speak ;  either 
because,  unlike  the  younger  Brutus,  he  had  no  Portia 
near  to  tell  him  that  such  exposure  was  "  not  physical," 
and  that  it  was  the  part  of  prudence  to  go  to  bed,  or  that, 
although  aware  of  the  dangers  of  miasma  to  a  man  of  his 
constitution,  he  did  not  happen  at  that  precise  moment 
to  have  access  to  either  house  or  bed ;  in  his  opinion, 
two  essential  pre-requisites  to  couching  himself,  as  he 
regarded  taking  it  al  fresco,  on  a  cellar  door,  not  likely 
to  answer  any  sanitary  purpose.  We  incline  ourselves 
to  the  opinion  that  he  was  in  the  dilemma  last  mentioned, 
as  it  had  previously  been  the  fate  of  other  great  men. 
But  be  that  as  it  may,  Mr.  Peter  Brush  was  in  the  street, 
as  melancholy  as  an  unbraced  drum,  "  a  gib-ed  cat,  or 
a  lugged  bear." 

Seated  upon  the  curb,  with  his  feet  across  the  gutter, 
he  placed  his  elbow  on  a  stepping-stone,  and  like  Juliet 
on  the  balcony,  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand — a  hand 
that  would*perhaps  have  been  the  better  of  a  covering, 
though  none  would  have  been  rash  enough  to  volunteer 
to  be  a  glove  upon  it.  He  was  in  a  dilapidated  condition — 
out  at  elbows,  out  at  knees,  out  of  pocket,  out  of  office, 
out  of  spirits,  and  out  in  the  street — an  "  out  and  outer" 
in  every  respect,  and  as  outre  a  mortal  as  ever  the  eye  of 
man  did  rest  upon.  For  some  time,  Mr.  Brush's  reflec- 
tions had  been 'silent.  Following  Hamlet's  advice,  he 
"gave  them  an  understanding,  but  no  tongue  ;"  and  he 
relieved  himself  at  intervals  by  spitting  forlornly  into 
the  kennel.  At  length,  suffering  his  locked  hands  to 
fall  between  his  knees,  and  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  he 
spoke : — 

"  A  long  *ime  ago,  my  ma  used  to  put  on  her  specs 
and  say,  '  Pever,  my  son,  put  not  your  trust  in  princes  ;' 
and  from  that  day  to  this  I  haven't  done  any  thing  of  the 


PETER    BRUSH.  *33 

kind,  because  none  on  'em  ever  wanted  to  borry  nothing 
of  me  ;  and  I  never  see  a  prince  or  a  king, — but  one  or 
two,  and  they  had  been  rotated  out  of  office, — to  borry 
nothing  of  them.  Princes  !  pooh ! — Put  not  your  trust 
in  politicianers — them's  my  sentiments.  You  might  jist 
as  well  try  to  hold  an  eel  by  the  tail.  I  don't  care  which 
side  they're  on,  for  I've  tried  both,  and  I  know.  Put 
not  your  trust  in  politicianers,  or  you'll  get  a  hyst. 

"  Ten  years  ago  it  came  into  my  head  that  things 
weren't  going  on  right ;  so  I  pretty  nearly  gave  myself 
up  tee-totally  to  the  good  of  the  republic,  and  left  the 
shop  to  look  out  for  itself.  I  was  brimfull  of  patriotism, 
and  so  uneasy  in  my  mind  for  the  salivation  of  freedom, 
I  couldn't  work.  I  tried  to  guess  which  side  was  going 
to  win,  and  I  stuck  to  it  like  wax ; — sometimes  I  was 
a-one  side,  sometimes  I  was  a-t'other,  and  sometimes  I 
straddled  till  the  election  was  over,  and  came  up  jist  in 
time  to  jine  the  hurrah.  It  was  good  I  was  after ;  and 
what  good  could  I  do  if  I  wasn't  on  the  'lected  side  ? 
But,  after  all,  it  was  never  a  bit  of  use.  Whenever  the 
battle  was  over,  no  matter  what  side  was  sharing  out  the 
loaves  and  the  fishes,  and  I  stepped  up,  I'll  be  hanged  if 
they  didn't  cram  all  they  could  into  their  own  mouths 
put  their  arms  over  some,  and  grab  at  all  the  rest  with 
their  paws,  and  say,  '  Go  away,  white  man,  you  ain't 
capable.' — Capable  !  what's  the  reason  I  ain't  capable  ? 
I've  got  as  extensive  a  throat  as  any  of  'em,  and  I  could 
swallow  the  loaves  and  fishes  without  choking,  if  each 
loaf  was  as  big  as  a  grindstone  and  each  fish  as 
big  as  a  sturgeon.  Give  Petqr  a  chance,  and  leave  him 
alone  for  that.  Then,  another  time  when  I  called — '  I 
want  some  spoils,'  says  I ;  '  a  small  bucket  full  of  spoils 
Whichever  side  gets  in,  shares  the  spoils,  don't  they  ?' 
So  they  first  grinned,  and  then  they  ups  and  tells  me  tha.* 


134  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES 

virtue  like  mine  was  its  own  reward,  and  that  spoils 
might  spoil  me.  But  it  was  no  spoils  that  spoilt  me, 
and  no  loaf  and  fish  that  starved  me — I'm  spoilt  because 
I  couldn't  get  either.  Put  not  your  trust  in  politicianers 
— I  say  it  agin.  Both  sides  used  me  jist  alike.  Here 
I've  been  serving  my  country,  more  or  less,  these  ten 
years,  like  a  patriot — going  to  town  meetings,  hurraing 
my  daylights  out,  and  getting  as  blue  as  blazes — blocking 
the  windows,  getting  licked  fifty  times,  and  having  more 
black  eyes  and  bloody  noses  than  you  could  shake  a 
stick  at,  all  for  the  common  good,  and  for  the  purity  of 
our  illegal  rights — and  all  for  what  ?  Why,  for  nix.  If 
any  good  has  come  of  it,  the  country  has  put  it  into  her 
own  pocket,  and  swindled  me  out  of  my  arnings.  I  can't 
get  no  office  !  Republics  is  ungrateful !  It  wasn't  reward 
I  was  after.  I  scorns  the  base  insinivation.  I  only 
wanted  to  be  took  care  of,  and  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
take  care  of  the  public,  and  I've  only  got  half — nothing 
to  do  !  Being  took  care  of  was  the  main  thing.  Repub- 
lics is  ungrateful ;  I'm  swaggered  if  they  ain't.  This  is 
the  way  old  sojers  is  served." 

Peter,  having  thus  unpacked  his  o'erfraught  heait. 
heaved  a  sigh  or  two,  as  every  one  does  after  a  recapi  • 
tulation  of  their  own  injuries,  and  remained  for  a  few 
minutes  wrapped  in  abstraction. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  he,  mournfully,  swaying  his  head 
to  and  fro  after  the  sagacious  fashion  of  Lord  Burleigh — 
"live  and  learn — live  and  learn — the  world's  not  what  a 
man  takes  it  for  before  he  finds  it  out.  Whiskers  grow 
a  good  deal  sooner  than  experience — genus  and  patriot- 
ism ain't  got  no  chance — heigh-ho  ! — But  anyhow,  a 
man  might  as  well  be  under  kiver  as  out  in  the  open  air 
in  sich  weather  as  this.  It's  as  cheap  laying  down  as  it  is 
settin'  up,  and  there's  not  so  much  wear  and  tear  about  it." 


PETER    BRUSH.  135 

With  a  groan,  a  yawn,  and  a  sigh,  Peter  Brush  slowly 
arose,  and  stretching  himself  like  a  drowsy  lion,  he 
walked  toward  the  steps  of  a  neighbouring  house.  Having 
reached  the  top  of  the  flight,  he  turned  about  and  looked 
round  with  a  scrutinizing  glance,  peering  both  up  and 
down  the  street,  to  ascertain  that  none  of  the  hereditary 
enemies  of  the  Brushes  were  in  the  vicinity.  Being 
satisfied  on  that  score,  he  prepared  to  enjoy  all  the  com- 
fort that  his  peculiar  situation  could  command.  Accord- 
ing to  the  modern  system  of  warfare,  he  carried  no  bag- 
gage to  encumber  his  motions,  and  was  always  ready  to 
bivouac  without  troublesome  preliminaries.  He  there- 
fore placed  himself  on  the  upper  step,  so  that  he  was 
just  within  the  doorway,  his  head  reclining  against  one 
side  of  it,  and  his  feet  braced  against  the  other,  block- 
ading the  passage  in  a  very  effectual  manner.  He  adjusted 
himself  in  position  as  carefully  as  the  Sybarite  who  was 
annoyed  at  the  wrinkle  of  a  rose-leaf  on  his  couch,  grunt- 
ing at  each  motion  like  a  Daniel  Lambert  at  his  toilet, 
and  he  made  minute  alterations  in  his  attitude  several 
times  before  he  appeared  perfectly  satisfied  that  he  had 
effected  the  best  arrangements  that  could  be  devised. 
After  reposing  for  a  while  as  if  "  the  flinty  and  steel 
couch  of  war  were  his  thrice-driven  bed  of  down,"  he 
moved  his  head  with  an  exclamation  of  impatience  at  the 
hardness  of  the  wall,  and  taking  his  time-worn  beaver, 
he  crumpled  it  up,  and  mollified  the  austerity  of  his  bol- 
ster by  using  the  crushed  hat  as  a  pillow. 

"  That  will  do,"  ejaculated  Brush,  clasping  his  hands 
before  him,  and  twirling  his  thumbs  ;  and  he  then  dosed 
his  eyes  for  the  purpose  of  reflecting  upon  his  condition 
with  a  more  perfect  concentration  of  thought  than  can  be 
obtained  when  outward  objects  distract  the  mind.  But 
thinking  in  this  way  is  always  a  hazardous  experiment, 


136  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

whether  it  be  after  dinner,  or  in  the  evening  ;  and  Petei 
Brush  soon  unwittingly  fell  into  a  troubled,  murmuring 
sleep,  in  which  his  words  were  mere  repetitions  of  what 
he  had  said  before,  the  general  scope  of  the  argument 
being  to  prove  the  received  axiom  of  former  times,  that 
republics  do  not  distribute  their  favours  in  proportion  to 
services  rendered,  and  that,  in  the  speaker's  opinion,  they 
are  not,  in  th^s  respect,  much  better  than  the  princes  against 
whom  his  mother  cautioned  him.  Such,  at  least,  was 
the  conviction  of  Mr.  Brush ;  at  which  he  had  arrived 
not  by  theory  and  distant  observation,  but  by  his  own 
personal  experience. 

It  is  a  long  lane  which  has  no  turning,  and  it  is  a  long 
sleep  in  the  open  air,  especially  in  a  city,  which  does  not 
meet  with  interruption.  Brush  found  it  so  in  this  in~ 
stance,  as  he  had  indeed  more  than  once  before.  Several 
gentlemen,  followed  by  a  dog,  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps,  and,  after  a  short  conversation,  dispersed  each  to 
his  several  home.  One,  however,  remained — the  owner 
of  the  dog — who,  whistling  for  his  canine  favourite,  took 
out  his  night-key,  and  walked  up  the  steps.  The  dog, 
bounding  before  his  master,  suddenly  stopped,  and  after 
attentively  regarding  the  recumbent  Brush,  uttered  a 
sharp  rapid  bark. 

The  rapidity  of  mental  operations  is  such  that  it  fre- 
quently happens,  if  sleep  be  disturbed  by  external  sounds, 
that  the  noise  is  instantly  caught  up  by  the  ear,  and  in- 
corporated with  the  subject  of  the  dream' — or  perhaps  a 
dream  is  instantaneously  formed  upon  the  nucleus  sug- 
gested by  the  vibration  of  the  tympanum.  The  bark  of 
the  dog  had  one  of  these  effects  upon  Mr.  Brush. 

"  Bow  !  wow  !  waugh  !"  said  the  dog. 

"  There's  a  fellow  making  a  speech  against  our  side," 
muttered  Peter ;  "  but  it's  all  talk — Where's  your  facts  ?— 


PETER    BRUSH.  137 

x  speech  in  pamphlet  form,  and  I'll  answer  it. 
Hmray  foi  us  * — everybody  else  is  rascals — nothing  but 
ruination  wnen  that  fellow's  principles  get  the  uppet 
hand — our  side  tor  ever — we're  the  boys  !" 

"  Be  still,  Ponto  !  "  said  the  gentleman.  "  Now,  sir, 
>e  pleased  to  get  up,  and  carry  yourself  to  some  other 
place.  I  don't  know  which  side  has  the  honour  of  claim- 
ing you,  but  you  are  certainly  on  the  wrong  side  at 
present." 

"  Don't  be  official  and  trouble  yourself  about  other 
people's  business,"  said  Brash,  trying  to  open  his  eyes  ; 
"  don't  be  official,  for  it  isn't  the  genteel  thing." 

"  Not  official  !  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  I  shall  be 
very  official,  and  trundle  you  down  the  steps  if  you  are 
not  a  little  more  rapid  in  your  motions." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  responded  Brush,  as  he  wheeled 
round  in  a  sitting  posture,  and  fronted  the  stranger— 
"  very  well — be  as  sassy  as  you  please — I  suppose  you've 
got  an  office,  by  the  way  you  talk — you've  got  one  of 
the  fishes,  though  perhaps  it  is  but  a  minny,  and  I  ain't — 
but  if  I  had,  I'd  show  you  a  thing  or  two.  Be  sassy,  be 
any  thing,  Mr.  Noodle-soup.  I  don't  know  which  side 
you're  on  either,  but  I  do  know  one  thing— it  isn't  saying 
much  for  your  boss  politicianer  that  he  chose  you  when 
I  must  have  been  on  his  list  for  promotion — that's  all, 
though  you  are  so  stiff,  and  think  yourself  pretty  to  look 
at.  But  them  that's  pretty  to  look  at  ain't  always  good 
'uns  to  go,  or  you  wouldn't  be  poking  here.  Be  off — • 
there's  no  more  business  before  this  meeting,  and  you 
may  adjourn.  It's  moved,  seconded,  and  carried — pay  the 
landlord  for  the  use  of  the  room  as  you  go." 

The  stranger  now  becoming  somewhat  amused,  feH  a 
disposition  to  entertain  himself  a  little  with  Peter. 

"  How  does  it  happen,"  said  he,  "  that  such  a  public 


138  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

spirited  individual  as  you  appear  to  be  should  find  him- 
self in  this  condition  ?  You've  had  a  little  too  much  of 
the  stimulantibus,  I  fear." 

"  I  don't  know  Greek,  but  I  guess  what  you  mean," 
was  the  answer.  "It's  owing  to  the  weather — part  to 
the  weather,  and  part  because  republics  is  ungrateful  ; 
that's  considerable  the  biggest  part.  Either  part  is  excuse 
enough,  and  both  together  makes  it  a  credit.  When  it's 
such  weather  as  this,  it  takes  the  electerizing  fluid  out 
of  you ;  and  if  you  want  to  feel  something  like — do  you 
know  what  'something  like'  is  ? — it's  cat-bird,  jam  up — 
if  you  want  to  feel  so,  you  must  pour  a  little  of  the  elec- 
terizing fluid  into  you.  In  this  kind  of  weather  you  must 
tune  yourself  up,  and  get  rosumed,  or  you  ain't  good  for 
much — tuned  up  to  concert  pitch.  But  all  that's  a  trifle — 
put  not  your  trust  in  politicianers." 

"  And  why  not,  Mr.  Rosum  ?" 

"  Why  not !  Help  us  up — there — steady  she  goes—- 
hold on !  Why  not  ? — look  at  me,  and  you'll  see  the  why 
as  large  as  life.  I'm  the  why  you  musn't  put  your  trust 
in  politicianers.  I'm  a  rig'lar  patriot — look  at  my  coat — 
I'm  all  for  the  public  good — twig  the  holes  in  my  trou- 
sers. I'm  steady  in  my  course,  and  I'm  upright  in  my 
conduct — don't  let  me  fall  down — I've  tried  all  parties, 
year  in  and  year  out,  just  by  way  of  making  myself 
popular  and  agreeable  ;  and  I've  tried  to  be  on  both  sides 
at  once,"  roared  Brush,  with  great  emphasis,  as  he  slip- 
ped and  fell — "  and  this  is  the  end  of  it !" 

His  auditor  laughed  heartily  at  this  striking  illustration 
of  the  results  of  the  political  course  of  Peter  Brush,  and 
seemed  quite  gratified  with  so  strong  a  proof  of  the  dan- 
ger of  endeavouring  to  be  on  two  sides  at  once.  He 
therefore  assisted  the  fallen  to  rise, 

"  Are  you  hurt ?" 


PETER    BRUSH.  139 

"  No — 1  m  used  to  being  knocked  about — the  steps 
and  the  pavement  are  no  worse  than  other  people — 
they're  like  politicianers — you  can't  put  any  trust  in  'em. 
But,"  continued  Brush,  drawing  a  roll  of  crumpled 
paper  from  the  crown  of  his  still  more  crumpled  hat — 
"  see  here  now — you're  a  clever  fellow,  and  I'll  get  you 
to  sign  my  recommendation.  Here's  a  splendid  charac- 
ter for  me  all  ready  wrote  down,  so  it  won't  give  you 
any  trouble,  only  to  put  your  name  to  it." 

"  But  what  office  does  it  recommend  you  for — what 
kind  of  recommendation  is  it?" 

"  It's  a  circular  recommend — a  slap  at  any  thing  that's 
going." 

"  Firing  into  the  flock,  I  suppose  ?" 

"That's  it  exactly — good  character — fit  for  any  fat 
post  either  under  the  city  government,  the  state  govern- 
ment, or  the  gineral  government.  Now  jist  put  your 
fist  to  it,"  added  Peter,  in  his  most  persuasive  tones,  as 
he  smoothed  the  paper  over  his  knee,  spread  it  upon  the 
step,  and  produced  a  bit  of  lead  pencil,  which  he  first 
moistened  with  his  lips,  and  then  offered  to  his  interlo- 
cutor. 

"  Excuse  me,"  was  the  laughing  response  ;  "  it's  too 
dark — I  can't  see  either  to  read  or  to  write.  But  what 
made  you  a  politicianer  ?  Haven't  you  got  a  trade  ?" 

"  Trade !  yes,"  replied  Brush,  contemptuously  ;  "  but 
what's  a  trade,  when  a  feller's  got  a  soul  ?  I  love  my 
country,  and  I  want  an  office — I  don't  care  what,  so  it's 
fat  and  easy.  I've  a  genus  for  governing — for  telling  peo- 
ple what  to  do,  and  looking  at  'em  do  it.  I  want  to  take 
care  of  my  country,  and  I  want  my  country  to  take  care 
of  me.  Head  work  is  the  trade  I'm  made  for — talking — 
that's  my  line — talking  in  the  streets,  talking  in  the  bar 
rooms,  talking  in  the  oyster  cellars.  Talking  is  the 


140  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

grease  for  the  wagon  wheels  of  the  body  politic  and  the 
body  corpulent,  and  nothing  will  go  on  well  till  I've  got 
my  say  in  the  matter;  for  I 'can  talk  all  day,  and  most 
of  the  night,  only  stopping  to  wet  my  whistle.  But 
parties  is  all  alike — all  ungrateful;  no  respect  for  genus — 
no  respect  for  me.  I've  tried  both  sides,  got  nothing, 
and  I've  a  great  mind  to  knock  off  arid  call  it  half  a  day. 
I  would,  if  my  genus  didn't  make  me  talk,  and  think,  and 
sleep  so  much  I  can't  find  time  to  work." 

"  Well,"  said  the  stranger,  "  you  must  find  time  to  go 
away.  You're  too  noisy.  How  would  you  like  to  go 
before  the  mayor  ?" 

"  No,  I'd  rather  not.  Stop — now  I  think  of  it,  I've 
asked  him  before ;  but  perhaps  if  you'd  speak  a  good 
word,  he'd  give  me  the  first  vacancy.  Introduce  me  pro- 
perly, and  say  I  want  something  to  do  shocking — no 
not  something  to  do — I  want  something  to  get ;  my 
genus  won't  let  me  work.  I'd  like  to  have  a  fat  salary, 
and  to  be  general  superintendent  of  things  in  general 
and  nothing  in  particular,  so  I  could  walk  about  the 
streets,  and  see  what  is  going  on.  Now,  put  my  best 
leg  foremost — say  how  I  can  make  speeches,  and  how  I 
can  hurray  at  elections." 

"Away  with  you,"  said  the  stranger,  as  he  ran 
up  the  steps,  and  opened  the  door.  "  Make  no  noise 
in  this  neighbourhood,  or  you'll  be  taken  care  of  soon 
enough." 

'•  Well,  now,  if  that  isn  t  ungrateful,"  soliloquized 
Brush, — "  keep  me  here  talking,  and  then  slap  the  door 
right  in  my  face.  That's  the  way  politicianers  serve  me, 
and  it's  about  all  I'd  a  right  to  expect.  Oh,  pshaw  ! — 
sich  a  world — sich  a  people  !" 

Peter  rolled  up  his  "  circular  recommend,"  put  it  in 
his  hat,  and  slowly  sauntered  away.  As  he  is  not  ye* 


PETER    BRUSH.  141 

provided  for,  he  should  receive  the  earliest  attention  of 
parties,  or  disappointment  may  induce  him  to  abandon 
both,  take  the  field  "upon his  own  hook,"  and  constitute 
an  independent  factipn  under  the  name  of  the  "  Brush 
party,"  the  cardinal  principle  of  which  will  be.  that  pecu- 
liarly novel  impulse  to  action,  hostility  to  all  "  politi- 
tianers"  who  are  not  on  the  same  side. 


(142) 

MUSIC  MAD; 

OR,  THE    MELOMANIAC. 


To  be  thin-skinned  may  add  to  the  brilliancy  and  to 
tne  beauty  of  the  complexion ;  but,  as  this  world  goes, 
it  is  more  of  a  disadvantage  than  a  blessing.  Where 
there  is  so  much  scraping  and  shaving,  the  cuticle  of  a 
rhinoceros  is  decidedly  the  most  comfortable  wear ;  and  to 
possess  any  of  the  senses  beyond  a  certain  degree  of 
acuteness  may  be  regarded  as  a  serious  misfortune.  It 
opens  the  door  to  an  infinite  variety  of  annoyances. 
There  are  individuals  with  noses  as  keen  as  that  of  a 
beagle  ;  but  whether  they  derive  more  of  pleasure  or  of 
pain  from  the  faculty,  is  a  question  easily  answered  when 
the  multiplicity  of  odors  is  called  to  mind.  To  be  what 
the  Scotch  term  "  nose-wise,"  sometimes,  it  is  true, 
answers  a  useful  purpose,  in  preventing  people  in  the 
dark  from  drinking  out  of  the  wrong  bottle,  and  from  ad- 
ministering the  wrong  physic ;  it  has  also  done  good 
service  in  enabling  its  possessor  to  discover  an  incipient 
fire ;  but  such  occasions  for  the  advantageous  employ 
ment  of  the  proboscis  are  not  of  every-day  occurrence, 
and,  on  the  general  average,  its  exquisite  organization  is 
an  almost  unmitigated  nuisance  to  him  who  is  obliged 
to  follow  from  his  cradle  to  his  grave,  a  nose  so  deli- 
cately constituted,  so  inconveniently  hypercritical,  so  fre- 
quently discontented,  and  so  intolerably  fastidious. 


MUSIC    MAD.  H3 

They,  likewise,  who  are  gifted  with  that  which  is 
technically  termed  a  "fine  ear,"  have  sufferings  pecu- 
liar to  themselves,  and,  like  the  king  of  Denmark,  receive 
their  poison  through  the  porches  of  the  auricle.  They 
are  the  victims  of  sound.  It  is  conceded  that  from  good 
music  they  derive  pleasures  of  which  the  rest  of  the 
world  can  form  but  a  faint  conception ;  but,  notwith- 
standing the  rage  for  its  cultivation,  really  good  music  is 
not  quite  so  plentiful  as  might  be  supposed,  and  the  pain 
inflicted  on  the  "  family  of  fine  ear"  by  the  inferior  arti- 
cle is  not  to  be  expressed  in  words.  A  discord  passes 
through  them  as  freezingly  as  if  it  were  a  bolt  of  ice ;  a 
flat  note  knocks  them  down  like  a  mace ;  and,  if  the 
vocalist  flies  into  the  opposite  extreme,  and  indulges  in 
being  a  "little  sharp,"  all  the  acids  of  the  shop  could  not 
give  the  unhappy  critic  a  more  vinegar  aspect,  or  more 
effectually  set  his  teeth  on  edge.  To  him  a  noise  is 
not  simply  a  noise  in  the  concrete ;  the  discriminating 
powers  of  his  tympanum  will  not  suffer  him,  as  it  were, 
to  lump  it  as  an  infernal  clatter.  Like  a  skilful  torturer, 
he  analyzes  the  annoyance ;  he  augments  the  pain  by 
ascertaining  exactly  why  the  cause  is  unpleasant,  and  by 
observing  the  relative  discordance  of  the  components, 
which,  when  united,  almost  drive  him  mad.  The  drum 
and  the  fife,  for  instance,  do  very  well  for  the  world  at 
large ;  but  "  the  man  with  the  ear"  is  too  often  ago- 
nized at  perceiving  how  seldom  it  is  that  the  drumstick 
twirler  braces  his  sheepskin  to  the  proper  pitch,  and  he 
cannot  be  otherwise  than  excruciated  at  the  piteous 
squeaking  of  its  imperfect  adjunct — that  "  false  one" 
which  is  truly  a  warlike  instrument,  being  studiously 
and  successfully  constructed  for  offence,  if  not  for  de- 
fence. 

Now  it  so  happens  that  Matthew  Minim  is  a  man 
10 


144  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

with  an  ear,  his  tympanum  being  a  piece  of  most  elabo 
rate  workmanship.  He  could  sing  before  he  couW  talk 
and  his  early  musical  experiments  were  innumerable 
The  first  use  he  made  of  his  teeth  was  to  bite  his  nurse 
for  singing  one  strain  of  "  hush-a-by-baby,"  in  three 
keys  ;  and  he  could  scarcely  be  prevailed  upon  to  look  at 
his  pa,  because  that  respectable  individual,  with  a  perver- 
sity peculiar  to  the  incompetent,  was  always  subjecting 
poor  "Hail  Columbia"  to  the  Procrustean  bed  of  his 
musical  capabilities,  and,  while  whistling  to  show  his 
own  light-heartedness,  did  any  thing  but  communicate 
corresponding  pleasure  to  his  auditors. 

"  Screw  it  up,  poppy,"  would  little  Minim  exclaim, 
with  the  expression  of  one  upon  the  rack  ;  "  screw  it  up, 
and  keep  it  there.  What's  the  use  of  chasing  a  tune  all 
about?" 

But  in  some  mouths  a  tune  will  run  all  about  of  itself, 
let  their  lips  be  puckered  ever  so  tightly,  and  there  is  no 
composition  of  a  popular  nature  which  is  so  often  heard 
performing  that  erratic  feat  as  the  one  familiarly  termed 
"Hail  Curlumby."  Matthew's  "poppy,"  therefore,  re- 
mained a  tune-chaser,  while  Matthew  himself  went  on 
steadily  in  the  work  of  cultivating  his  ear,  and  of  enlarg- 
ing his  musical  knowledge.  He,  of  course,  commenced 
his  studies  with  the  flute,  which  may  be  regarded  among 
men  and  boys  as  the  first  letter  of  the  alphabet  in  mu- 
sical education.  He  then  amused  himself  with  the  fid- 
dle— tried  the  French  horn  for  a  season,  varying  the 
matter  by  a  few  lessons  upon  the  clarionet  and  hautboy, 
and  finally  improving  his  powers  of  endurance  by  a  little 
practising  of  the  Kent  bugle.  He  at  length  became  a 
perfect  melomaniac,  and  was  always  in  danger  of  being 
indicted  as  a  nuisance  by  his  less  scientific  neighbours 
whose  ears  were  doomed  to  suffer  both  by  night  and  by 


MUSIC    MAD.  145 

day.  The  twangling  of  stringed  instruments  was  the 
only  relief  they  could  obtain  from  the  blasts  of  those 
more  noisy  pieces  of  mechanism  which  receive  voice 
from  the  lips,  and  it  has  even  been  supposed  that  Mat- 
thew Minim  ranged  his  bugles,  trumpets,  and  fiddles  by 
the  side  of  his  bed,  that  he  might  practise  between 
sleeps.  » 

Not  long  since,  Matthew  Minim  was  returning  from 
a  musical  party  late  at  night,  and  his  friend  Jenkinson 
Jinks,  who  is  likewise  a  votary  of  the  divine  art,  was 
with  him.  Minim  carried  his  flute  in  a  box  under  his 
arm,  and  Jinks  bore  his  fiddle  in  a  bag  on  his  shoulder. 

"Nature,"  observed  Minim,  "  is  the  most  perfect  of 
musicians  ;  she  never  violates  the"  rules  of  composition, 
and  though  her  performers  are  often  noisy,  yet,  so  long  as 
they  attempt  no  more  than  is  jotted  down  for  them,  they 
are  always  in  time  and  in  tune.  In  fact,  the  world  is  one 
great  oratorio.  Hark ! — listen !  throw  aside  vulgar  pre- 
judices, and  hear  how  chromatic  and  tender  are  the  voices 
of  those  cats  in  the  kennel ! — consider  it  as  the  balcony 
scene  from  Romeo  e  Giulietta — how  perfectly  beautiful 
that  slide  !  how  exact  the  concord  between  the  rotund  bass 
notes  of  Thomas  Cat,  and  the  dulcet  intonations  of  the 
feminine  pussy,  and  how  sparkling  the  effect  produced 
by  the  contrast  in  the  alternate 'passages  !  They  are  the 
Fornasari  and  the  Pedrotti  of  this  moonlit  scene.  Bel- 
lini himself,  with  all  his  flood  of  tenderness,  never  pro- 
duced any  thing  more  characteristic,  appropriate,  and 
touching;  nor  could  the  most  accomplished  artistes  give 
the  idea  of  the  composer  with  more  fidelity." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Jenkinson  Jinks,  who  was  not  al- 
together capable  of  entering  into  the  spirit  of  the  refined 
abstractions  in  which,  after  supper,  his  companion  was 
prone  to  indulge. 
140 


143  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

"Ph-i-t!  —  ph-i-z !"  exclaimed  the  t:ats,  as  they 
scampered  away  in  alarm  at  the  approach  of  the  mu- 
sicians. 

"  Staccato  and  expressive  in  execution,"  said  Jinks ; 
"  but  certainly  not  stay-cat-o  in  effect." 

"Admirable  !"  remarked  Minim — "  Phit  and  phiz  are 
the  exact  phrase  to  express  in  short  metre  that  it  is  time 
to  be  off  like  a  shot,  and  the  notes  in  which  they  were  ut- 
tered are  those  best  calculated  to  convey  the  sense  of  the 
passage." 

"  A  very  rapid  passage  it  was,  too,"  added  Jinks  ; 
"  quite  a  roulade — the  performers  are  running  divisions 
up  and  down  old  Boodle's  fence — a  passage  from  the 
oratorio  of  '  Mosey'  perhaps." 

"  I  bar  punning,"  ejaculated  Minim,  impatiently ;  "  and 
to  elucidate  my  theory  upon  the  subject  of  natural  mu&ic, 
and  to  prove—" 

"  Categorically  ?"  inquired  Jinks. 

"  Hush  !  To  prove  that  the  composer  can  nave  no  bet- 
ter study  for  the  true  expression  of  the  passions  and 
emotions  than  is  to  be  found  in  observing  the  animal 
creation,  I  shall  now  proceed  to  kick  this  dog,  which 
lies  asleep  upon  the  pavement,  and,  without  his  being  at 
all  aware  of  what  I  want,  I  shall  extract  from  him  a 
heartrending  passage  in'the  minor  key,  expressive  of 
great  dolor,  and  of  a  sad  combination  of  mental  and  phy- 
sical discomfort." 

"  Stop!"  hurriedly  exclaimed  Jinks,  ensconcing  him- 
self behind  a  tree  ;  "  before  you  give  that  dogmatical 
illustration,  allow  me  to  inform  you  that  the  dog  before 
you  is  old,  Boodle's  Towser — he  bites  like  fury." 

"Bite!"  replied  Minim,  contemptuously ;  "and  what's 
a  bite  in  the  cause  of  science,  and  in  the  exemplification 
of  the  minor  key?" 


MUSIC   MAD.  147 

Minim  accordingly  gave  the  dog  a  gentle  push  with  his 
foot. 

"  Ya-a-a-ah  !"  angrily  and  threateningly  remonstrated 
Towser,  without  moving. 

"  There — I  told  you  so  !"  roared  Jinks — "  that's  not 
in  the  minor  key — it's  as  military  a  major  as  ever  1  heard 
in  my  life :  when  I  listen  to  it,  I  can  almost  see  you  in 
the  shape  of  a  cocked  hat." 

"  Well,  then,  poke  him  with  your  fiddle,"  said  Mi- 
nim, drawing  back,  and  eying  the  dog  rather  suspiciously. 
"  Come  away  from  the  tree,  and  give  Mr.  Boodle's 
Towser  a  jolly  good  punch." 

"  Not  I,"  replied  Jinks ;  "  I've  no  notion  of  letting  my 
Cremona  be  chawed  up  agitato  by  an  angry  Towser- 
poke  him  with  your  flute." 

"  No— stop — I'll  get  at  him  as  it  were  slantindicularly 
— round  a  corner,"  said  Minim,  retiring  so  that  he  was 
partially  protected  by  the  flight  of  steps,  from  which 
position  he  extended  his  leg,  and  dealt  to  Mr.  Boodle's 
Towser  a  most  prodigious  kick. 

"  Y-a-h  !  y-o-a-h  ! — b-o-o  !"  snarled  the  dog  indig- 
nantly, as  he  dashed  round  the  corner  to  revenge  the  in- 
sult, which  was  so  direct  and  pointed  that  no  animal  of 
spirit  could  possibly  pass  it  over  unnoticed. 

Mr.  Matthew  Minim  turned  to  fly,  but  he  was  not 
quick  enough,  and  the  dog  entered  a  detainer  by  seizing 
him  by  the  pantaloons. 

"  Get  out !"  shrieked  Minim.  "  Take  him  off,  Jinks, 
or  he'll  eat  me  without  salt!" 

"Splendid  illustration  of  natural  music!"  shouted 
Jinks,  clapping  his  hands  in  ecstasy;  "  Con  furore!  Da 
capo.  Towser! — Volti  subito,  Minim  ! — Music  expres- 
sive of  tearing  your  breeches.  I  never  saw  a  situation 


148  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

at  once  so  picturesque,  dramatic,  and  operatic.  Why 
don't  you  sing 

'  Oh,  I  cannot  give  expression 

To  this  dog's  deep  felt  impression  ?' 

for  I'm  sure,  while  he  bites  and  you  squeal,  that  he's 
proving  to  your  satisfaction  how  well  nature  understands 
counterpoint.  Bravo,  Towser  !  —  that's  a  magnificent 
shake  ;  but  he  won't  let  you  favour  us  with  a  run, — will 
he,  Matthew  ?" 

Towser  held  on  determinedly,  shaking  his  head  and 
growling  fiercely,  with  his  mouth  full  of  pantaloons, 
which,  however,  being  very  strong,  did  not  give  way  and 
suffer  the  distressed  captive  to  escape. 

"  Hit  him  with  a  stick — get  a  big  stone  !"  panted 
Minim — "  quit  cracking  jokes,  for  when  the  cloth  goes 
the  horrid  beast  will  take  hold  again — perhaps  of  my 
flesh,  and  bite  a  piece  right  out !" 

"Very  likely — it's  better  eating  than  woollens;  but 
go  on  with  your  duet — don't  mind  me,"  added  Jinks 
quietly,  as  he  looked  about  for  a  missile.  Having  found 
one  sufficiently  heavy  for  his  purpose,  he  took  deliberate 
aim,  and  threw  it  with  such  force  that  the  angry  animal 
was  almost  demolished.  On  finding  himself  so  violently 
assailed,  the  dog  relaxed  his  jaws  and  scampered  down 
the  street,  making  the  neighbourhood  vocal  with  his  cries. 

"  There,  I  told  you,"  said  Minim,  settling  his  disorder- 
ed dress,  and  hoping,  by  taking  the  lead  in  conversation, 
to  avoid  any  hard-hearted  reference  to  his  misfortune — "  I 
toJd  you  he  would  sing  out  in  the  minor  key,  if  he  was 
hurt.  Hear  that  now — the  dog  is  really  heartrending." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Jinks,  "  he's  quite  a  tearer  of  a  dog 
—now  heartrending,  and  from  the  looks  of  your  clothes, 
he  was  a  little  while  ago  really  breeches-rending.  But 
pick  up  your  flute — the  lecture  upon  natural  music  is 
over  for  this  evening." 


MUSIC    MAD.  149 

"  Urn !"  growled  Minim,  discontentedly,  as  he  took 
np  his  hat  and  flute-box,  and  walked  doggedly  forward. 

****** 

Not  a  word  was  said  while  they  walked  several  squares. 
Peter  was  musing  upon  the  cost  of  new  pantaloons,  and 
Jinks  chuckled  to  himself  as  he  thought  how  capitally 
the  story  about  "  natural  music"  would  tell  at  a  small 
party. 

A.  protracted  silence,  however,  if  men  are  not  alone  or 
are  not  positively  occupied,  becomes  wearisome  and  an- 
noying, and  brings  the  nerves  into  unpleasant  action. 
Taciturnity,  though  commended,  is  after  all  but  a 
monkish  virtue.  Nature  designed  the  human  race  to  talk 
when  they  are  together — to  be  brightened  and  enlivened 
by  an  interchange  of  sentiment ;  and  while  gratifying 
themselves  by  exhibiting  their  old  ideas,  to  be  enriched 
by  the  reception  of  new  thoughts  and  fresh  impressions. 
So  strong  is  the  impulse,  that  there  are  many  minds 
which,  under  these  circumstances,  cannot  continue  a  chain 
of  thought,  and  grow  restless  and  impatient,  in  the  belief 
that  the  neighbour  mind  gives  out  nothing  because  it 
waits  for  the  lead,  and  is  troubled  for  the  want  of  it.  The 
silence  therefore  continues,  the  same  idea  prevailing  on 
both  sides,  and  disabling  each  from  tossing  a  subject  into 
the  air,  to  elicit  that  volley  of  ideas  or  of  words,  as  the 
case  may  be,  which  constitutes  conversation.  The  ex- 
emplification is  to  be  met  with  every  day,  and  never 
more  frequently  than  in  formal  calls,  when  the  parties 
are  not  so  well  acquainted  as  to  be  able  to  find  a  com- 
mon topic  on  an  emergency.  He  was  not  so  much  of, 
a  simpleton  as  people  think  him,  who  said  a  foolish  thing 
during  the  excruciating  period  of  an  awkward  pause, 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  "  making  talk."  Every  one 
is  familiar  with  plenty  of  instances,  in  which  a  Wamba 


150  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

*  to  make  talk"  would  have  been  regarded  as  a  blessing, 
saving  those  present  from  the  torture  of  cudgelling  torpid 
brains  in  vain,  and  from  the  annoyance  of  knowing  that 
each  uncomfortable  looking  individual  of  the  company, 
though  likewise  cudgelling,  regarded  every  other  person 
as  remarkably  stupid  and  unsocial. 

From  feelings  analogous  to  those  just  mentioned,  was 
it  that  Jenkinson  Jinks  felt  it  incumbent  upon  him  to 
hazard  an  observation.  He  looked  about  for  a  cloud,  but 
there  was  none  to  be  seen.  He  glanced  at  the  stars,  but 
they  were  neither  very  bright  nor  very  dim. 

"  Magnificent  houses,"  said  Jinks,  at  last,  by  way  of 
starting  a  leading  fact,  which  was  at  once  undeniable  and 
calculated  to  elicit  a  kindly  response.  The  conscience 
of  Jinks  rather  reproached  him  with  having  laughed  too 
heartily  at  Minim's  recent  misadventure,  and  he  there- 
fore selected  a  topic  the  least  likely  to  afford  opportunity 
for  a  petulant  reply,  or  to  open  the  way  to  altercation. 
Minim  received  the  olive  branch. 

"  Yes,  but  there's  a  grand  mistake  about  this  luxu- 
rious edifice  for  instance,"  replied  Minim;  halting,  and 
leaning  against  a  pump  in  front  of  a  house  which  was 
adorned  with  both  a  bell  and  a  knocker,  "  the  builder 
has  regarded  the  harmony  of  proportion,  and  all  that — 
he  has  made  the  proper  distances  between  the  windows 
and  doors, — the  countenance,  expression,  and  figure  of 
the  house  has  been  attended  to ;  but  I'm  ready  to  bet, 
without  trying,  that  no  one  has  thought  of  its  voice — no 
one  has  had  the  refined  judgment  to  harmonize  the  bell 
and  the  knocker,  and,  luckily  for  our  nerves,  knockers 
are  going  out  and  have  left  the  field  to  the  bells.  But, 
where  they  remain,  there's  nothing  but  discord  in  the 
vocal  department;  and  if  the  servants  have  ears, — and 
why  should  they  not  ? — it  must  almost  drive  them  dis- 


MUSIC    MAD.  15 I 

traded.  Yes,  yes — very  pretty — fine  steps,  fine  house, 
bright  knocker,  glittering  bell  handle,  and  plenty  of  dis- 
cord. It's  as  STire  as  that  the  bell  and  knocker  are  there 
in  juxtaposition.  To  be  morally  certain,  I'll  try." 

Up  strode  Matthew  Minim  to  the  top  of  the  steps. 

"  Now,  Jinks — out  with  your  fiddle — it's  up  to  con- 
cert pitch — sound  your  A." 

Jinks  laughingly  did  as  he  was  ordered,  and  after  3 
preliminary  flourish,  sounded  orchestra  fashion,  "  Twa-a-a 
— twawdle,  tweedle,  twawdle— twa-a-a  !" 

"  Taw-lol-tol-tee — tee-lol-tol-taw !"  sang  Minim,  tra- 
velling up  and  down  the  octave,  to  be  sure  of  the  pitch. 
*'  Now,  listen,"  and  he  rattled  a  stirring  peal  upon  the 
knocker.  "  That's  not  in  tune  with  us  no  how  you  can 
take  it — is  it,  Jinks  ?" 

"  No— twudle,  tweedle,  twudle,  tweedle  !"  replied 
Jinks,  fiddling  merrily,  as  he  skipped  about  the  pavement, 
delighted  with  his  own  skill. 

"  Be  quiet  there — now,  I'll  try  whether  the  bell  and  the 
knocker  are  in  tune  with  each  other.  Let's  give  'em  a 
fair  trial."  So  saying,  Minim  seized  the  knocker  in 
one  hand,  and  the  bell  in  the  other,  sounding  them  to 
the  utmost  of  his  power. 

"  Oh,  horrid  !  shameful.!  abominable  !— even  worse 
than  I  thought — upon  my  word! — " 

"  Halloo,  below  !"  said  a  voice  from  the  second  story 
window,  emanating  from  a  considerable  quantity  of  night- 
cap and  wrapper ;  "  what's  the  matter  ?  Is  it  the  Ingens, 
or  is  the  house  afire  ?" 

"  I  ain't  a  fireman  myself,  and  I  can't  tell  until  the  big 
bell  rings  whether  there's  a  fire  or  not,  '  said  Minim ; 
"  but,  if  the.  house  is  positively  on  fire,  I  advise  you  as  a 
friend  to  come  down,  and  leave  it  as  soon  as  possible. 
3ring  your  clothes,  for  the  weather's  not  over  warm." 


152  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

"Yes,"  said  Jinks;  "bring  your  trousers  anyhow, 
for  we've  only  got  one  whole  pair  down  here." 

"  You're  a  pair  of  impertinent  rascals  :  what  do  you 
mean  by  kicking  up  such  a  bobbery  at  this  time  of  night?" 

"  Bobbery ! — don't  be  cross,  fiddle-strings  ;  always  be 
harmonious  in  company,  and  melodious  when  you're 
alone,  especially  when  you  snore.  J  merely  wish  to  in- 
form you  that  your  bell  and  knocker  do  not  accord.  Just 
listen  !" 

Bell  and  knocker  were  both  again  operated  on  vigor- 
ously. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  the  like  ?  I'm  ashamed  of  you 
— have  them  tuned,  do — it's  dreadful.  Tune  'em." 

Once  more  Minim  rang  the  bell  and  plied  the  knocker 
with  great  vigour  and  strength  of  muscle,  while  Jinks 
played  "  Nel furor  delle  tempeste,"  from  II  Pirata. 

The  night-capped  head  disappeared  from  the  window, 
and  the  musical  gentlemen  stood  chattering  and  laughing, 
the  one  on  the  step  and  the  other  on  the  pavement,  all 
unconscious  of  the  mischief  that  was  brewing  for  them. 

"  Come,"  said  Minim — "  let's  give  these  people  a 
duet — a  serenade  will  enlarge  their  musical  capacities." 

"  What  shall  it  be  ?"  queried  Jinks,  humming  a  suc- 
cession of  airs,  to  find  something  suited  to  the  occasion. 

"  Something  about  bells,  if  you  don't  know  any  thing 
about  knockers,"  added  Minim,  giving  the  bell  handle 
another  affectionate  tweak. 

Just  then,  Meinherr  Night-cap  and  Wrapper  returned 
to  the  window,  aided  by  a  stout  servant,  bearing  a  bucket 
of  water.     "  I'll  not  call  the  watch,"  chuckled  he,  "  buf 
I'll  teach  these  fellows  how  to  swim.'" 
"Home,  fare  thee  well, 
The  ocean's  storm  is  over" 

iang  Matthew  Minim  and  Jenkinson  Jinks. 


MUSIC    MAD.  153 

"  Not  over  yet,"  said  the  voice  from  the  window,  as 
Minim  was  drenched  by  the  upsetting  of  the  bucket— 
"  take  care  of  the  ground-swell !" 

A  spluttering,  panting,  and  puffing  sound  succeeded, 
like 

"  The  bubbling  shriek,  the  solitary  cry 
Of  some  strong  swimmer  in  his  agony." 

Jinks  paddled  off  rapidly — he  had  seen  enough  of  the 
Cataract  of  the  Ganges  in  former  times  :  not  so  with  Mr. 
Minim,  who  exclaimed, 

"  Fire  and  fury  !  who  asked  for  a  water-piece  ?  If 
'  Water  parted'  is  your  tune,  you  may  stick  to  Arne,  but 
I'll  give  you  a  touch  of  Kotzwara — a  specimen  of  the 
'Battle  of  Prague,'  with  a  little  of  the  'Hailstone 
chorus.'  " 

Minim  hammered  away  at  the  door  ;  but  not  being 
able  to  beat  in  the  panels  with  his  feet,  he  caught  up  a 
paving-stone  and  hurled  it  against  the  frame,  shouting 
"  Stony-batter !" 

Windows  flew  up  in  all  directions,  and  night-capped 
heads  projected  from  every  embrasure.  The  people  shout- 
ed, the  dogs  barked,  and  rattles  were  sprung  all  round. 
Never  was  there  heard  a  less  musical  din. 

Minim  stood  aghast.  "  Worse  and  worse  !"  cried  he  ; 
"  what  a  clatter  !  Haydn's  '  Chaos'  was  a  fool  to  this  ! 
It's  natural  music,  however,  and  I'll  play  my  part  till  I 
get  in,  and  catch  the  fellow  who  appointed  himself  the 
watering  committee  ;"  and  he,  therefore,  continued  beat- 
ing upon  the  door. 

Mr.  Minim  was,  however,  overpowered  by  a  number 
of  individuals,  headed  by  the  bucket  bearing  servant, 
and  as  his  heels  were  tripped  up,  he  mournfully  re- 
marked, 

"  So  fell  Cardinal  Wolsey.     Will  nobody  favour  us 


154  CHAHCOAI,  SKETCHES. 

with  the  '  Last  words  of  Marmion,'  or  'The  soldier  tired,' 
'  My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground,'  or  something  else 
neat  and  appropriate  ?" 

• '  Can't  you  get  somebody  to  bail  you  ?"  said  a  pun- 
ning individual,  alluding  to  Mr.  Minim's  drenched  con- 
dition. 

"  Let  him  run,  Jacob,"  exclaimed  the  gentleman  with 
the  night-cap,  speaking  from  the  window  ;  "  take  him 
round  the  corner,  and  give  him  a  start.  He  is  sufficiently 
water-lynched,  and  I  want  no  further  trouble  on  his  ac- 
count." 

"  I  won't  go,"  replied  Minim.  "  I've  finished  playing 
for  the  night ;  but  as  you  are  leader,  give  the  coup  cPar- 
chet,  and  set  your  orchestra  in  motion.  I  won't  walk 
round  the  corner — carry  me — this  must  be  a  sostenuto 
movement." 

"  Well,  if  that  ain't  a  good  note  !"  said  the  admiring 
crowd,  as  Minim  was  transported  round  the  corner, 
whence,  being  set  at  liberty,  he  walked  drippingly  home, 
and  ever  after  confined  his  musical  researches  within 
decorous  bounds. 


155) 


RIPTON  RUMSEY; 

A    TALE    OF    THE    WATERS. 


THEY  who  are  at  all  mindful  of  atmospheric  pheno- 
mena must  remember  a  storm,  remarkable  for  its  vio- 
lence, which"  occurred  not  long  since.  It  was  a  storm  by 
night,  and  of  those  abroad  at  the  time,  every  one  averse 
to  the  shower  bath,  and  having  a  feline  dislike  to  wet 
feet,  will  bear  it  in  mind,  at  least  until  the  impression  is 
washed  out  by  the  floods  of  a  greater  tempest.  In  the 
evening,  the  rain,  as  if  exercising  itself  for  more  import- 
ant feats,  fell  gently  and  at  intervals ;  but  as  the  night 
advanced,  the  wind  came  forth  intent  upon  a  frolic.  Com- 
mencing with  playful  gambols,  it  amused  itself  at  first 
with  blowing  out  the  old  women's  candles  at  the  apple 
stands.  Then  growing  bolder,  it  extinguished  a  few 
corporation  lamps,  and,  like  a  mischievous  boy,  made 
free  to  snatch  the  hats  of  the  unguarded,  and  to  whisk 
them  through  mud  and  kennel.  At  length  becoming  wild 
by  indulgence,  it  made  a  terrible  turmoil  through  the 
streets,  without  the  slightest  regard  to  municipal  regula- 
tions to  the  contrary.  It  went  whooping  at  the  top  of  its 
voice  round  the  corners,  whistled  shrilly  through  the 
key-holes,  and  howled  in  dismal  tones  about  the  chimney 
tops.  Here,  it  startled  the  negligent  housewife  from  her 
slumbers  by  slamming  the  unbolted  shutter  till  it  roared 


156  CHARCOAI,    SKETCHES. 

like  a  peal  of  artillery ;  and  there,  it  tossed  a  rusty  sign 
until  its  ancient  hinges  creaked  for  mercy ;  while  at 
intervals,  the  heavy  tumble  of  scantling  told  that  when 
Auster  chooses  to  kick  up  a  breeze,  he  is  very  nearly  as 
good  at  a  practical  joke  as  Boreas,  or  any  other  frolic- 
some member  of  the  ^Eolian  family.  The  clouds  too 
threw  open  their  sluices,  and  the  water  joiningr  in  the 
saturnalia,  tried  a  variety  of  ways  to  amuse  itself,  and  its 
capers  were  as  numerous  as  those  of  the  gale.  It  beat 
the  tattoo  upon  the  pavement  with  such  sportive  fury, 
that  it  was  difficult  to  decide  whether  it  did  not  rain  up- 
ward as  violently  as  it  did  downward.  Anon  the  breeze 
came  sweeping  along  in  a  horizontal  shower,  disdaining 
alike  the  laws  of  gravity,  and  the  perpendicular,  but  more 
nackneyed  method  of  accomplishing  its  object.  In  short, 
whether  reference  be  had  to  wind  or  to  water,  it  may  be 
noted  in  the  journals  of  those  curious  in  regard  to  wea- 
ther, as  a  night  equally  calculated  to  puzzle  an  umbrella, 
and  to  render  "  every  man  his  own  washerwoman." 

Selecting  a  single  incident  from  the  many,  which  it  is 
natural  to  suppose  might  have  been  found  by  the  aid  of  a 
diving  bell  on  such  a  night,  it  becomes  necessary  to  fish 
up  Ripton  Rumsey,  who  happened  to  be  abroad  on  that 
occasion,  as  he  is  upon  all  occasions  when  left  to  consult 
his  own  wishes.  Where  Ripton  had  been  in  the  early 
part  of  the'  evening,  it  would  not  have  been  easy  either 
for  himself  or  any  one  else  to  tell.  It  is,  therefore,  fair 
to  infer  that,  distributing  his  attentions,  he  had  been  as 
usual  "  about  in  spots."  The  fact  is  he  has  a  hobby, 
which,  like  many  hobbies,  is  apt  to  throw  its  rider.  Al- 
though temperately  disposed,  such  is  the  inquiring  nature 
of  his  philosophic  spirit,  that,  with  a  view  perhaps  to 
the  ultimate  benefit  of  the  human  race,  he  is  continually 
experimenting  its  to  the  effects  of  alcoholic  stimulants 


RIPTON    RTJMSEY.  157 

upon  the  human  frame.  It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  on 
this  occasion  having  "  imbibed  too  much  of  the  enemy" 
neat  as  imported,  he  had  walked  forth  to  qualify  it  by  a 
stroll  in  the  rain.  This,  however,  is  irrelevant,  where 
he  was,  is  the  point  at  issue. 

The  rain  came  down  heavier  than  ever.  A  solitary 
watchman,  more  amphibious  than  his  race  in  general, 
was  seen  wending  his  way  through  the  puddles,  think- 
ing, if  he  thought  at  all,  of  the  discomforts  of  those  whom 
Noah  left  behind,  and  of  that  happy  provision  of  nature 
which  renders  a  wet  back  fatal  to  none  but  young  gos- 
lings. Dodging  between  the  drops  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion ;  so  he  strode  manfully  onward,  until  he  stumbled 
over  something  which  lay  like  a  lion,  or  a  bundle  of  wet 
clothing,  in  his  path. 

"  Why,  hello  ! — what  do  you  call  this  when  it's  biled, 
and  the  skin's  tuck  off?"  said  he,  recovering  himself, 
and  giving  the  obstruction  a  thrust  with  his  foot.  "  What's 
this  without  ing'ens  ?"  continued  he,  in  that  metaphorical 
manner  peculiar  to  men  of  his  profession,  when  they  ask 
for  naked  truths  and  uncooked  facts. 

It  was  Ripton  Rumsey — in  that  independent  condition 
which  places  men  beyond  the  control  of  circumstances, 
enabling  them  to  sleep  quietly  either  on  the  pavement 
or  on  the  track  of  a  well  travelled  railroad,  and  to  repose 
in  despite  of  rain,  thunder,  a  gnawing  conscience,  or  the 
fear  of  a  locomotive.  It  was  Ripton  Rumsey,  saved  from 
being  floated  away  solely  by  the  saturated  condition  of 
both  his  internal  and  external  man. 

"  It's  a  man,"  remarked  the  investigator,  holding  to  a 
tree  with  his  right  hand,  as  he  curiously,  yet  cautiously 
pawed  Ripton  with  his  left  foot.  "  It's  a  man  who's 
turned  in  outside  of  the  door,  and  is  taking  a  snooze  on 
the  cold  water  principle.  Well,  I  say,  neighbour,  jist  in 


158 


CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 


a  friendly  way,"  added  he,  giving  Ripton  a  prodigious 
kick  as  an  evidence  of  his  amicable  feeling — "  if  you 
don't  get  up,  you'll  ketch  a  nagee  or  the  collar-and-fix 
you.  Up  with  you,  Jacky  Dadle." 

Ripton's  condition,  as  before  hinted,  was  beyond  the 
ordinary  impulses  to  human  action ;  and  he,  therefore, 
endured  several  severe  digs  with  the  foot  aforesaid,  with- 
out uttering  more  than  a  deep-toned  grunt ;  but  at  last 
the  sharp  corner  of  the  boot  coming  in  contacfwith  his 
ribs,  he  suddenly  turned  over  in  the  graceful  attitude  of  a 
frog,  and  struck  out  vigorously.  Like  Giovanni's  faith- 
ful squire,  he  proved  himself  an  adept  at  swimming  on 
land.  He  "  handled"  his  arms  and  legs  with  such  dex- 
terity, that  before  his  progress  could  be  arrested,  he  was 
on  the  curbstone.  The  next  instant  heard  him  plunge 
into  the  swollen  and  roaring  kennel,  and  with  his  head 
sticking  above  the  water,  he  buffeted  the  waves  with  a 
heart  of  controversy. 

"  The  boat's  blowed  up,  and  them  that  ain't  biled  are 
all  overboard !"  spluttered  the  swimmer,  as  he  dashed 
the  waters  about,  and  seemed  almost  strangled  with  the 
quantities  which  entered  the  hole  in  his  head  entitled  a 
mouth,  which  was  sadly  unacquainted  with  undistilled 
fluids — "  Strike  out,  or  you're  gone  chickens  !  them  as 
can't  swim  must  tread  water,  and  them  as  can't  tread 
water  must  go  to  Davy  Jones  !  Let  go  my  leg !  Every 
man  for  himself!  Phre-e-e  !  bro-o-o  !  Who's  got  some 
splatterdocks  ?" 

The  watch  looked  on  in  silent  admiration  ;  but  finding 
that  the  aquatic  gentleman  did  not  make  much  headway, 
and  that  a  probability  existed  of  his  going  out  of  the 
world  in  soundings  and  by  water,  a' way  evidently  not  in 
conformity  to  his  desires,  the  benevolent  guardian  of  the 
night  thought  proper  to  interpose  ;  and  bending  himself 


RIPTON    RUMSEY.  159 

to  the  work,  at  last  succeeded  in  re-establishing  Ripton 
Rumsey  on  the  curbstone. 

"  Ha  !"  said  Ripton,  after  gasping  a  few  minutes,  and 
wringing  the  water  from  his  face  ami  hair — "  you've 
saved  me,  and  you'll  be  put  in  the  newspapers  for  it  by 
way  of  solid  reward.  Jist  in  time — I'd  been  down  twyst, 
and  if  I'd  gone  agin,  Ripton  Rumsey  would  a  stayed  there 
— once  more  and  the  last  and  the  nearest  gits  it.  Only 
think — my  eye  !  how  the  shads  and  the  catties  would  a 
chawed  me  up  !  Getting  drownded  ain't  no  fun,  and 
after  you're  drownded  it's  wus.  My  sufferings  what  I  had 
and  my  sufferings  what  I  like  to  had  is  enough  to  make 
a  feller  cry,  only  I  ain't  got  no  hankercher,  and  my 
sleeve's  so  wet  it  won't  wipe  good." 

"Yes,  young 'un,"  said  the  Charley,  "s'posing  the 
fishes  had  been  betting  on  elections,  they'd  have  invited 
the  other  fishes  to  eat  you  for  oyster  suppers, — so  much 
majority  for  sturgeon-nose,  or  a  Ripton  Rumsey  supper 
for  the  company— why  not  ?  If  we  ketch  the  fishes,  we  eat 
them ;  and  if  they  ketch  us,  they  eat  us, — bite  all  round." 

But  the  storm  again  began  to  howl,  and  as  Ripton 
evidently  did  not  understand  the  rationale  of  the  argument^ 
the  watchman  lost  his  poetic  sympathy  for  the  Jonah  of 
the  gutters.  Even  had  he  heard  the  fishes  calling  for  "  Rip- 
ton  Rumseys  fried,"  "  Ripton  Rumseys  stewed,"  or 
"  Ripton  Rumseys  on  a  chafing  dish,"  he  would  have  felt 
indifferent  about  the  matter,  and  if  asked  how  he  would 
take  him,  would  undoubtedly  have  said, "  Ripton  Rumsey 
on  a  wheelbarrow." 
.  "  You  must  go  to  the  watch-house." 

"What  fur  must  I !  Fetch  along  the  Humane  Soci- 
ety's apparatus  for  the  recovery  of  drownded  indiwidooals 
—them's  what  I  want — I'm  water  logged.  Bring  us  one 

of  the  largest  kind  of  smallers — a  tumbler  full  of  brandy 
11 


160  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

and  water,  without  no  water  in  it.  I've  no  notion  of 
being  diddled  out  of  the  sweets  of  my  interesting  sitiva- 
tion — I  want  the  goodies — wrap  me  in  a  hot  blanket  and 
lay  me  by  the  fire — put  hot  bricks  to  my  feet,  fill  me  up 
with  hot  toddy,  and  then  go  away.  That's  the  scientific 
touch,  and  it's  the  only  way  I'm  to  be  brung  to,  because 
when  I'm  drownded  I'm  a  hard  case." 

The  Charley  promised  all,  if  Ripton  would  accompany 
him.  The  soft  delusion  was  believed,  and  the  "  hard 
case"  was  lodged  in  the  receptacle  for  such  as  he,  where, 
before  he  discovered  the  deception,  he  fell  into  a  pro- 
found slumber,  which  lasted  till  morning.  The  examina- 
tion was  as  follows : — 

"  Where  do  you  live?" 

"I'm  no  ways  petickelar — jist  where  it's  cheapest  and 
most  convenient.  The  cheapest  kind  of  living,  according 
to  my  notion,  is  when  it's  pretty  good  and  don't  cost 
nothing.  In  winter,  the  Alms  House  is  not  slow,  and 
if  you'll  give  us  a  call,  you'll  find  me  there  when  the 
snow's  on  the  ground.  But  when  natur'  smiles  and  the 
grass  is  green,  I'm  out  like  a  hoppergrass.  The  fact  is, 
my  constitution  isn't  none  of  the  strongest ;  hard  work 
hurts  my  system  ;  so  I  go  about  doing  little  jobs  for  a  fip 
or  a  levy,  so's  to  get  my  catnip  tea  and  bitters  regular — 
any  thing  for  a  decent  living,  if  it  doesn't  tire  a  feller. 
But  hang  the  city — rural  felicity  and  no  Charleys  is  the 
thing,  after  all — pumpkins,  cabbages,  and  apple  whiskey 
is  always  good  for  a  weakly  constitution  and  a  man  of  an 
elewated  turn  of  mind." 

"  Well,  I'll  send  you  to  Moyamensing  prison — quite 
rural." 

The  sound  of  that  awful  word  struck  terror  to  the  very 
marrow  of  Ripton.  Like  the  rest  of  his  class,  while 
bearing  his  soul  in  his  stomach,  he  carries  his  heart  at 


'Every  m»n  for  himself!  Phre-e-e  !  bro-o-o!  who's  got  some  splattcrdocks ?" — Page  158. 


RIPTON    RUMSEY.  161 

the  end  of  his  nose,  and  to  his  heart  rushed  the  blood 
from  every  part  of  his  frame,  until  the  beacon  blazed  with 
a  lurid  glare,  and  the  bystanders  apprehended  nasal  apo- 
plexy. The  rudder  of  his  countenance  grew  to  such  a 
size  that  there  was  no  mistaking  the  leading  feature  of 
the  case.  To  see  before  him,  Ripton  was  compelled  to 
squint  direfully,  and  as  the  beggar  in  Gil  Bias  did  his  car- 
bine, he  found  himself  under  the  necessity  of  resting  his 
tremendous  proboscis  on  the  clerk's  desk,  while  cocking 
his  eye  at  his  honour. 

"  Miamensin  !"  stammered  Ripton — "  Ouch,  ouch  ! 
now  don't !  that's  a  clever  feller.  Arch  street  was  all 
well  enough — plenty  of  company  and  conversation  to 
improve  a  chap.  But  Miamensin — scandaylus  !  Why 
they  clap  you  right  into  a  bag  as  soon  as  you  get  inside 
the  door,  jist  as  if  they'd  bought  you  by  the  bushel,  and 
then,  by  way  of  finishing  your  education,  they  lug  you 
along  and  empty  you  into  a  room  where  you  never  see 
nothing  nor  nobody.  It's  jist  wasting  a  man — I'm  be 
bagged  if  I  go  to  Miamensin  ! — I'd  rather  be  in  the  Me- 
nagerry,  and  be  stirred  up  with  a  long  pole  twenty  times 
a  day,  so  as  to  cause  me  for  to  growl  to  amuse  the  com- 
pany. I  ain't  potatoes  to  be  put  into  a  bag — blow  the 
bag !" 

"  There's  no  help  for  it,  Ripton;  you  are  a  vagrant, 
and  must  be  taken  care  of." 

"  That's  what  I  like  ;  but  bagging  a  man  is  no  sort  of 
a  way  of  taking  care  of  him,  unless  he's  a  dead  robin  or 
a  shot  torn-tit.  As  for  being  a  vagrom,  it's  all  owing  to 
my  weakly  constitution,  and  because  I  can't  have  my 
bitters  and  catnip  tea  regular.  But  if  it's  the  law,  here's 
at  you.  Being  a  judge,  or  a  mayor,  or  any  thing  of  that 
sort's  easy  done  without  catnip  tea ;  it  don't  hurt  your 
hands,  or  strain  your  back ;  but  jist  try  a  spell  at  smashing 


162  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

stones,  or  piling  logs,  and  you'd  learn  what's  what  with 
out  being  put  in  a  bag. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Ripton,  as  he  was  conducted 
from  the  office,  "  every  thing  goes  round  in  this  world. 
Perhaps  I'll  be  stuck  up  some  day  on  a  bench  to  ladle 
out  law  to  the  loafers.  Who  knows  ?  Then  let  me 
have  a  holt  of  some  of  the  chaps  that  made  Miamensin. 
I'd  ladle  out  the  law  to  'em  so  hot,  they'd  not  send  their 
plates  for  more  soup  in  a  hurry.  I'd  have  a  whole  bucket- 
ful of  catnip  tea  alongside,  and  the  way  they'd  ketch 
thirty  days,  and  thirty  days  a  top  of  that,  would  make 
'em  grin  like  chessy  cats.  First  I'd  bag  all  the  Char- 
leys, and  then  I'd  bag  al1  the  mayors,  and  sew  'em  up." 


(  163) 


A  WHOLE-SOULED  FELLOW; 

• 

OR, 
THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF  TIPPLETON  TIPPS. 


As  the  reader  may  have  observed  in  his  journey 
through  life,  the  shades  and  varieties  of  human  character 
are  infinite.  Although  the  temperaments,  like  the  car- 
dinal numbers,  are  not  multitudinous,  yet  in  the  course 
of  events  they  have  been  so  combined  with  each  other, 
and  are  so  modified  by  circumstance,  that  ingenuity 
itself  cannot  institute  subdivisions  to  classify  mankind 
with  correctness.  Whatever  it  may  have  been  when  our 
ancestors  existed  in  the  nomadic  state  and  herded  in 
tribes,  it  is  difficult  now  to  find  the  temperaments  in  their 
pristine  purity ;  and  in  consequence,  it  is  but  vague  de- 
scription to  speak  of  others  as  sanguineous,  nervous,  or 
saturnine.  Something  more  definite  is  required  to  con- 
vey to  the  mind  a  general  impression  of  the  individual, 
and  to  give  an  idea  of  his  mode  of  thought,  his  habitual 
conduct,  and  his  principles  of  action.  Luckily,  however, 
for  the  cause  of  science  and  for  the  graphic  force  of  lan- 
guage, there  is  a  universal  aptitude  to  paint  with  words, 
and  to  condense  a  catalogue  of  qualities  in  a  phrase, 
which  has  been  carried  to  such  perfection,  that  in  au- 


164  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

quiring  through  the  medium  of  another  a  know  ledge  of 
the  distinctive  moral  features  of  our  fellow  mortals,  it  is 
by  no  means  necessary  to  devote  hours  to  query  and 
response.  An  intelligent  witness  can  convey  to  us  the 
essence  of  a  character  in  a  breath  ;  a  nourish  of  the 
tongue  will  sketch  a  portrait,  and  place  it,  varnished  and 
framed,  in  our  mental  picture  gallery.  The  colours  will, 
it  is  true,  be  coarsely  dashed  in,  but  the  strength  of  the 
resemblance  abundantly  compensates  for  deficiency  of 
finish.  If,  for  instance,  we  are  briefly  told  that  Mr.  Plin- 
limmon  is  a  "  cake,"  the  word  may  be  derided  as  a  cant 
appellation ;  the  ultra-fastidious  may  turn  up  their  noses 
at  it  as  a  slang  phrase  ;  but  volumes  could  not  render  our 
knowledge  of  the  man  more  perfect.  We  have  him  as 
it  were,  upon  a  salver,  weak,  unwholesome,  and  insipid 
— suited  to  the  fancy,  perhaps,  of  the  very  youthful,  but 
by  no  means  qualified  for  association  with  the  bold,  the 
mature,  and  the  enterprising.  When  we  hear  that  a 
personage  is  classed  by  competent  judges  among  the 
"  spoons,"  we  do  not  of  course  expect  to  find  him 
shining  in  the  buffet ;  but  we  are  satisfied  that  in  action 
he  must  figure  merely  as  an  instrument.  There  are 
likewise,  in  this  method  of  painting  to  the  ear,  the  nicest 
shades  of  difference,  often  represented  and  made  intelli- 
gible solely  by  the  change  of  a  letter, — "  soft"  being 
the  positive  announcement  of  a  good  easy  soul,  and 
*«  saft"  intimating  that  his  disposition  takes  rank  in  the 
superlative  degree  of  mollification.  When  danger's  to 
be  confronted,  who  would  rashly,  rely  upon  a  "  skulk  ?" 
or,  under  any  circumstances,  ask  worldly  advice  of  those 
verdant  worthies  known  among  their  cotemporaries  as 
decidedly  "  green  ?" 

Such  words  are  the  mystic  cabala ;   they  are  the  key 
to  individuality,  throwing  open  a  panoramic  view  of  the 


A    WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  105 

man,  and  foreshadowing  his  conduct  in  any  supposed 
emergency. 

Therefore,  when  we  speak  of  Tippleton  Tipps  as  a 
"  whole-souled  fellow,"  the  acute  reader  will  find  an 
inkling  of  biography  in  the  term — he  will  understand 
that  Tippleton  is  likely  to  be  portrayed  as  "  no  one's 
enemy  but  his  own" — and  from  that  will  have  a 
glimpse  of  disastrous  chances,  of  hairbreadth  'scapes, 
and  of  immediate  or  prospective  wreck.  According  to 
the  popular  acceptation  of  the  phrase,  a  "  whole-soul"  is 
a  boiler  without  a  safety  valve,  doomed  sooner  or  later  to 
explode  with  fury,  if  wisdom  with  her  gimblet  fail  in 
making  an  aperture :  the  puncture,  however,  being  ef- 
fected, the  soul  is  a  whole-soul  no  longer.  It  must 
therefore  be  confessed  that  Tippleton  Tipps  has  not 
thus  been  bored  by  wisdom.  He  has  a  prompt  alacrity 
at  a  "blow-out"  and  has  been  skyed  in  a  "blow-up," 
two  varieties  of  the  blow  which  frequently  follow  each 
other  so  closely  as  to  be  taken  for  cause  and  effect. 

Tippleton  Tipps,  as  his  soubriquet  imports,  is  one  of 
those  who  rarely  become  old,  and  are  so  long  engaged  in 
sowing  their  wild  oats  as  to  run  to  seed  themselves,  never 
fructifying  in  the  way  of  experience,  unless  it  be,  like 
Bardolph,  in  the  region  of  the  nose.  Before  the  con- 
densing process  was  applied  to  language,  he  would  pro- 
bably have  been  called  a  dissipated,  unsteady  rogue,  who 
walked  in  the  broad  path  which  furnishes  sea-room  for 
eccentricities  of  conduct ;  but  in  these  labour-saving 
times,  he  rejoices  in  the  milder,  but  quite  as  descriptive 
title  of  a  whole-souled  fellow,  the  highest  degree  attain- 
able in  the  college  of  insouciance  and  jollity.  It  is,  how- 
ever, no  honorary  distinction,  to  be  gained  without  toil 
or  danger.  The  road  is  steep  and  thorny,  and  though 
in  striving  to  reach  the  topmost  height,  there  is  no  ne- 


166  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

cessity  for  burning  the  midnight  oil  in  the  retired  study, 
yet  the  midnight  lamp,  and  many  of  the  lamps  which 
beam  between  the  noon  of  night  and  morning,  are  often 
incidentally  smashed  in  the  process.  Aspirants  for  other 
academic  glories  become  pale  with  application  and  pro 
tracted  vigils,  but  the  whole-souled  fellow  will  outwatch 
the  lynx,  and,  if  his  cheek  be  blanched,  the  colour  is 
made  up  in  another  portion  of.  his  visage.  He  is  apt  to 
be  as  "  deeply  red"  as  any  one,  though  the  locality  of 
his  acquirements  may  be  different. 

The  strict  derivation  of  the  title  acquired  by  Tipple- 
ton — the  W.  S.  F.  by  which  he  is  distinguished — is  not 
easily  to  be  traced.  There  is,  however,  a  vulgar  belief 
that  the  philosopher  who  devotes  himself  to  profound 
investigations,  whether  theoretical,  like  those  of  the 
schools,  or  experimental,  like  those  of  the  Tippses,  is  not 
altogether  free  from  flaw  in  the  region  of  the  occiput, 
and  hence,  as  the  schoolman  has  the  sutures  of  his  cra- 
nium caulked  with  latinized  degrees,  and  as  one  should 
always  have  something  whole  about  him,  fancy  and 
charity  combined  give  the  fast-livers  credit  for  a  "  whole- 
soul."' 

Now,  Tippleton  Tipps  always  lived  uncommonly  fast. 
He  is  in  fact  remarkable  for  free  action  and  swift  travel, 
existing  regularly  at  the  rate  of  sixteen  miles  an  hour 
under  a  trot,  and  can  go  twenty  in  a  gallop.  He  sleeps 
fast,  talks  fast,  eats  fast,  drinks  fast,  and,  that  he  may  get 
on  the  faster,  seldom  thinks  at  all.  It  is  an  axiom  of  his 
that  thinking,  if  not  "an  idle  waste  of  thought,"  is  a 
very  leaden  business — one  must  stop  to  think,  which 
wastes  time  and  checks  enterprise.  He  reprobates  it  as 
much  as  he  does  poring  over  books,  an  employment 
which  he  regards  as  only  calculated  to  give  a  man  a 
"crick  in  the  neck,"  and  to  spoil  the  originality  of  his 


A    WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  167 

ideas.     A  Avhole-souled  fellow  knows  every  thing  intui- 
tively— what  is  reason  with  others,  is  instinct  in  him. 

When  Tippleton  was  quite  a  little  boy,  his  moral  idio- 
syncrasy manifested  itself  in  a  very  decisive  way.  His 
generosity  was  remarkable ;  he  was  never  known  to  pause 
in  giving  away  the  playthings  belonging  to  his  brothers 
and  sisters ;  and  his  disinterestedness  was  such  that  he 
never  hesitated  an  instant  in  breaking  or  losing  his  own, 
if  sure  of  repairing  the  deficit  by  foraging  upon  others. 
No  sordid  impulse  prevented  a  lavish  expenditure  of  his 
pennies,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  gone  he  "  financiered" 
with  the  s'ame  liberality  by  borrowing  from  his  little 
friends,  never  offending  their  delicacy  by  an  offer  to 
return  the  loan, — a  blunder  into  which  meaner  spirits 
sometimes  fall.  When  that  statesmanlike  expedient 
would  no  longer  answer,  he  tried  the  great  commercial 
system  upon  a  small  scale,  by  hypothecating  with  the 
apple  and  pie  woman  the  pennies  he  was  to  receive,  thus 
stealing  a  march  upon  time  by  living  in  advance.  There 
being  many  apple  women  and  likewise  many  pie  wo- 
men, he  extended  his  business  in  this  whole-souled  sort 
of  a  way,  and  skilfully  avoiding  the  sinking  of  more 
pennies  than  actually  necessary  to  sustain  his  credit,  he 
prospered  for  some  time  in  the  eating  line.  But  as  every 
thing  good  is  sure  to  have  an  end,  the  apple  and  pie  sys- 
tem being  at  last  blown  out  tolerably  large,  Tippleton 
exploded  with  no  assets.  By  way  of  a  moral  lesson,  his 
father  boxed  his  ear?  and  refused  to  settle  with  his  credi- 
tors,— whereupon  Tippleton  concluded  that  the  sin  lay  al- 
together in  being  found  out, — while  his  mother  kissed 
him,  gave  him  a  half  dollar,  and  protested  that  he  had  the 
spirit  of  a  prince  and  ought  not  to  be  snubbed.  As  the 
spirit  of  a  prince  is  a  fine  thing,  it  was  cherished  accord- 
ingly, and  Tippleton  spent  his  cash  and  laughed  at  the 
pie  women. 


168  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

The  home  department  of  his  training  being  thus 
carefully  attended  to,  Tippleton  went  to  a  variety  of 
"  lyceums,"  "  academies,"  and  "  institutes,"  and  mosaick- 
ed his  education  by  remaining  long  enough  to  learn  the 
branches  of  mischief  indigenous  to  each,  when,  either 
because  he  had  outstripped  his  teacher,  or  because  his 
whole-soul  had  become  too  large,  he  was  invariably 
requested  to  resign,  receiving  on  all  of  these  interesting 
occasions  the  cuff  paternal  and  the  kiss  maternal,  the 
latter  being  accompanied,  as  usual,  with  a  reinforcement 
to  his  purse  and  a  plaudit  to  his  spirit.  Tippleton  then 
took  a  turn  at  college,  where  he  received  the  last  polish 
before  the  premature  notice  to  quit  was  served  upon  him ; 
and  at  seventeen  he  was  truly  "  whole-souled,"  playing 
billiards  as  well  as  any  "  pony"  in  the  land,  and  boxing 
as  scientifically  as  the  "  deaf  'un."  He  could  owe  every- 
body with  a  grace  peculiar  to  himself;  kick  up  the 
noisiest  of  all  possible  rows  at  the  theatre,  invariably 
timed  with  such  judgment  as  to  make  a  tumultuous  rush 
at  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  play ;  he  could  extem- 
porize a  fracas  at  a  ball,  and  could  put  Cayenne  pepper 
in  a  church  stove.  The  most  accomplished  young  man 
about  town  was  Tippleton  Tipps,  and  every  year  in- 
creased his  acquirements. 

Time  rolled  on ;  the  elder  Tippses  left  the  world 
for  their  offspring  to  bustle  in,  and  Tippleton,  reaching 
his  majority,  called  by  a  stretch  of  courtesy  the  age  of 
discretion,  received  a  few  thousands  as  his  outfit  in 
.manhood.  He,  therefore,  resolved  to  setup  for  himself, 
determined  to  be  a  whole-souled  fellow  all  the  time, 
instead  of,  as  before,  acting  in  that  capacity  after  business 
hours. 

"  Now,"  said  Tipps,  exultingly,  "  I'll  see  what  fun 
is  made  of — now  I'll  enjoy  life — now  I'll  be  a  man.!" 


A  WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  169 

And,  acting  on  that  common  impression,  which,  how- 
ever, is  not  often  borne  out  by  the  result,  that  when  the 
present  means  are  exhausted  something  miraculous  will 
happen  to  recruit  the  finances,  Tippleton  commenced 
operations, — stylish  lodgings,  a  "  high  trotting  horse," 
buggy,  and  all  other  "  confederate  circumstance."  It  was 
soon  known  that  he  was  under  weigh,  and  plenty  of 
friends  forthwith  clustered  around  him,  volunteering  their 
advice,  and  lending  their  aid  to  enable  him  to  support  the 
character  of  a  whole-souled  fellow  in  the  best  and  latest 
manner.  Wherever  his  knowledge  happened  to  be  defi- 
cient, Diggs  "  put  him  up"  to  this,  Twiggs  "  put  him  up" 
to  that,  and  Sniggs  "put  him  up"  to  t'other,  and  Diggs, 
Twiggs,  and  Sniggs  gave  him  the  preference  whenever 
they  wanted  a  collateral  security  or  a  direct  loan.  Thus, 
Tippleton  not  only  had  the  pleasure  of  their  company  at 
frolics  given  by  himself,  but  had  likewise  the  advantage 
of  being  invited  by  them  to  entertainments  for  which  his 
own  money  paid. 

"  Clever  is  hardly  a  name  for  you,  Tippleton,"  said 
Diggs,  using  the  word  in  its  cis-atlantic  sense. 

"  No  back-out  in  him,"  mumbled  Sniggs,  with  un- 
wonted animation. 

"  The  whole-souled'st  fellow  I  ever  saw,"  chimed 
Twiggs. 

Tippleton  had  just  furnished  his  satellites  with  the 
cash  to  accompany  him  to  the  races  ;  for  then  he  was  yet 
rather  "  flush." 

"  Give  me  Tippleton  anyhow,"  said  Diggs, — "  he's 
all  sperrit." 

"  And  no  mistake,"  chimed  Sniggs. 

"  He  wanted  it  himself,  I  know  he  did,"  ejaculated 
Twiggs,  "but,  whole-souled  fellow — "  and  Twiggs  but- 
toned his  pocket  on  the  needful,  and  squinted  through 


170  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

the  shutters  at  the  tailor's  boy  and  the  bootmaker's  boy, 
who  walked  suspiciously  away  from  the  door,  as  if  they 
didn't  believe  that 

TIPPLETON  TIPPS,  ESQ. 

Dr. 

To  sundries  as  per  account  rendered, 

was  "  not  in."  Tailors'  boys,  and  shoemakers'  boys, 
and  indeed,  bill-bearing  boys  in  general,  are  matter-of- 
factish  incredulous  creatures  at  best,  and  have  no  respect 
foj  the  poetic  licenses  ;  they  are  not  aware  that  whole- 
souled  people,  like  the  mysterious  ball  of  those  ingenious 
artists  the  "  thimble  riggers,"  who  figure  upon  the  sward 
on  parade  days,  race  days,  hanging  days,  and  other 
popular  jubilees,  are  either  in  or  out  as  the  emergencies 
of  the  case  require. 

But  what  would  not  Tippleton  do  to  maintain  his 
reputation  ?  While  he  had  the  means,  let  borrowers  be  as 
plenty  as  blackberries,  they  had  only  to  pronounce  the 
"  open  sesame"  to  have  their  wishes  gratified,  even  if 
Tippleton  himself  were  obliged  to  borrow  to  effect  so 
desirable  an  object.  The  black  looks  of  landlords  and 
landladies,  the  pertinacities  of  mere  business  creditors, 
what  are  they,  when  the  name  of  a  whole-souled  fellow 
is  at  stake  ?  Would  they  have  such  a  one  sink  into  the 
meanness  of  giving  the  preference  to  engagements  which 
bring  no  credit  except  upon  books  ?  Is  selfishness  so 
predominant  in  their  natures  ?  If  so,  they  need  not  look 
to  be  honoured  by  the  Tippleton  Tippses  with  the  light 
of  their  countenance,  or  the  sunshine  of  their  patronage. 
There  is  not  a  Tipps  in  the  country  who  would  lavish 
interviews  upon  men  or  the  representatives  of  men,  who 
have  so  little  sympathy  with  the  owners  of  whole-souls 
To  such,  the  answer  will  invariably  be  "  not  in." 


A  WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  Il 

"  Tippleton  Tipps,  I've  an  idea,"  said  Dig£«. 

"  Surprising,"  said  Tippleton  moodily. 

"  A  splendid  idea — a  fortune-making  idea  for  you," 
continued  Diggs. 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  Tippleton  was  just  in  that 
situation  in  which  the  prospect  of  a  fortune  is  a  "  splendid 
idea,"  even  to  a  "  whole-souled  fellow."  His  funds  were 
exhausted — his  credit  pumped  dry  ;  the  horse  and  buggy 
had  been  sequestered,  "  and  something  miraculous"  in  the 
shape  of  relief  had  not  happened.  In  fact,  affairs  were  in 
that  desperate  condition  which  offers  no  resource  but  the 
dreadful  one  of  suicide,  or  that  still  more  dreadful  alter- 
native, going  to  work, — running  away  without  the  means 
being  a  matter  of  impossibility.  -'  *>''5 

"  As  how  ?"  interrogated  Tippleton  dubiously,  he 
having  but  little  faith  in  the  money-making  schemes 
broached  by  Diggs,  that  individual's  talent  lying  quite  in 
another  direction. 

"  As  how  ?"  chorussed  Sniggs  and  Twiggs,  who,  as 
nard  run  as  their  compatriots,  snuffed  free  quarters  in  the 
word,  and  a  well-filled  purse  ready  at  their  call. 

"  You  must  marry,"  added  Diggs.  "  Get  thee  a  wife, 
Tippleton." 

"  Ah  !  that  would  improve  the  matter  amazingly,  and 
be  quite  a  profitable  speculation,"  replied  Tippleton 
ironically. 

"  To  be  sure — why  not  ?  What's  to  prevent  a  good 
looking,  whole-souled  fellow  like  you  from  making  a 
spec  ? — Grimson's  daughter,  for  instance — not  pretty 
but  plaguey  rich — only  child — what's  to  hinder — eh  ?' 

"  Yes — what's  to  hinder  ?"  said  Twiggs  and  Sniggs 
looking  at  each  other,  and  then  at  Tippleton — "  whole- 
souled — good  looking — and  all  that — just  what  the  girls 
like." 


172  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

"  Perhaps  they  do,  but  papas  do  not,"  said  Tipple- 
ton,  with  a  meditating  look ;  "  as  for  old  Grimson,  he 
hates  'em." 

"  Very  like  ;  but  you  don't  want  to  marry  Grimson— • 
get  the  daughter,  and  the  father  follows — that's  the  plan. 
If  it  must  be  so,  why  make  an  impression  upon  Miss 
Jemima  first — then  shave  off  your  whiskers,  uncurl  your 
hair,  put  your  hat  straight  on  your  head,  and  swear  to  a 
reform — quit  fun,  go  to  bed  early — very  hard  certainly, 
but  when  matters  are  once  properly  secured,  then  you 
know — ha !  ha !"  and  Twiggs  sportively  knocked  Tip- 
pleton  in  the  ribs. 

"  Ha  !  ha  !"  laughed  Twiggs  and  Sniggs,  poking  each 
other  in  the  same  anatomical  region. 

Although  Tippleton  had  but  little  fancy  for  matrimony 
in  general,  or  for  Miss  Jemima  Grimson  in  particular, 
yet  under  the  circumstances,  he  felt  disposed  to  venture 
on  the  experiment  and  to  try  what  could  be  done.  He 
therefore  continued  the  conversation,  which  happened 
late  one  night  in  a  leading  thoroughfare,  and  which  was 
interrupted  in  a  strange,  startling  manner. 

An  intelligent  "  hem !"  given  in  that  peculiar  tone 
which  intimates  that  the  utterer  has  made  A  satisfactory 
discovery,  seemed  to  issue  from  a  neighbouring  tree-box, 
and  as  Messrs.  Tipps,  Diggs,  Sniggs,  and  Twiggs  directed 
their  astonished  regards  toward  the  suspected  point,  a 
head  decorated  with  a  straw  hat — a  very  unseasonable 
article  at  the  time,  and  more  unseasonable  from  its  lid- 
like  top,  which  opened  and  shut  at  each  passing  breeze — 
protruded  from  the  shelter. 

"Ahem!"  repeated  the  head,  seeming  to  speak  with 
"most  miraculous  organ,"  the  wintry  blast  lifting  up 
the  hat-crown  and  letting  it  fall  again,  as  if  it  were  the 
mouth  of  some  nondescript — "  Ahem  !  I  like  the  specki- 


A  WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  173 

lation  myself,  and  I  must  either  be  tuck  in  as  a  pardener 
or  I'll  peach.  I  knows  old  Grimsings — he  lent  me  a  kick 
and  a  levy  t'other  day,  and  if  I  don't  see  good  reason  to 
the  contrayry,  I  mean  to  stick  up  fur  him.  It's  a  prime 
speckilation  fur  me  every-vich-vay." 

The  conspirators  were  astonished,  as  well  they  might 
be,  at  the  sudden  and  unexpected  apparition  among  them 
of  another  "  whole-souled  fellow"  with  a  dilapidated  hat. 
The  stranger  was  Richard  Dout,  the  undegenerated  scion 
of  a  noble  house,  the  members  of  which  have  been  con- 
spicuous in  all  ages — it  was  Richard,  known  to  his 
familiars  by  the  less  respectful,  but  certainly  more  affec- 
tionate appellation  of  "  Dicky  Dout."  He  is  a  man  of 
fine  feelings  and  very  susceptible  susceptibilities,  being 
of  that  peculiar  temperament  which  is  generally  under- 
stood to  constitute  genius,  and  possessing  that  delicate 
organization  which  is  apt  to  run  the  head  of  its  owner 
against  stone  walls,  and  prompts  him  on  all  occasions  to 
put  his  fingers  in  the  fire.  He  has,  therefore,  like  his 
illustrious  progenitors,  a  strong  affinity  for  "  looped  and 
windowed  raggedness,"  and  rather  a  tendency  toward  a 
physical  method  of  spiritualizing  the  grosser  particles  of 
the  frame.  But  for  once,  Dout  was  sharpened  for 
*'  speckilation." 

"  I'm  to  go  sheers,"  added  Dout,  as  if  it  were  a  settled 
thing. 

"  Sheer  off,  you  impudent  rascal !"  ejaculated  the 
party. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  sass,"  replied  he,  seating  himself 
coolly  on  the  fire-plug,  and  deliberately  tucking  up  the 
only  tail  which  remained  to  his  coat — "  Cuss  as  much  as 
you  please — it  won't  skeer  wot  I  know  out  o'  me.  Don't 
hurt  yourself,  said  Carlo  to  the  kitten.  I'll  see  Grim- 
eings  in  the  morning,  if  I  ain't  agreeable  nere — I'm  to 


*74  CHARCOAL   SKETCHES. 

have  fust  every  and  a  shot  this  time,  as  the  boys  says  veft 
they're  playin'  of  marvels.  Let  them  knuckle  down 
close  as  can't  help  it,"  concluded  Dout,  as  he  whistled 
and  rubbed  his  shin,  and  remarked  that  when  "  sot  upon 
a  thing  he  was  raal  lignum  witey." 

"  Tippleton !"  said  Diggs. 

"Well?"  replied  Tippleton. 

"A  fix!" 

"  Ra-a-ther." 

"  Nullum  g-o-wm,"  added  Sniggs,  who  prided  himself 
upon  his  classical  knowledge. 

"Epluribum  uniber,  if  you  come  to  that,"  interjected 
Dout. 

"  We're  caught,"  added  Twiggs,  who  dealt  largely  in 
French;  "  we're  caught,  tootin  in  the  assembly." 

"  Does  he  know  us  ?"    inquired  Tippleton. 

"  To  be  sure,"  replied  Dout — "  we  whole-souled 
fellers  knows  everybody  in  the  same  line  of  busi- 
ness." 

This  was  decidedly  a  check — the  speculators  were 
outgeneralled  by  the  genius  of  the  Douts ;  so  making 
a  virtue  of  necessity,  they  mollified  him  by  a  slight 
douceur  scraped  up  at  the  time,  and  large  promises  for 
the  future.  Dicky  was  forthwith  installed  as  boot-cleaner 
and  coat-brusher  to  the  party,  as  well  as  recipient  of 
old  clothes,  under  condition  of  keeping  tolerably  sober 
and  very  discreet. 

Peace  being  thus  concluded,  Tippleton  Tipps  com- 
menced the  campaign  against  the  heart  of  Miss  Jemima 
Grimson,  who  liked  whole-souled  fellows,  and  began  the 
work  of  ingratiating  himself  with  his  father's  old  friend 
Mr.  Grimson, who  cordially  disliked  whole-souled  fellows. 
In  the  first  place,  therefore,  he  ceased  to  associate  pub- 
licly with  Diggs,  Sniggs,  and  Twiggs,  and  contented  him- 


A  WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  175 

self  with  chuckling  with  them  in  private.  He  silenced 
his  creditors  by  demonstrating  to  them  that  he  was  a 
young  man  of  great  expectations,  and  even  contrived  to 
obtain  advances  upon  the  prospect,  wherewith  to  keep 
nimself  in  trim  and  to  nourish  Dicky  Dout.  Miss  Je- 
mima was  delighted,  for  Tippleton  had  such  a  way  with 
him ;  while  Mr.  Crimson's  unfavourable  impressions 
gradually  vanished  before  his  professions  of  reform  and 
improved  conduct.  The  old  gentleman  employed  him 
as  a  clerk,  and  had  a  strong  inclination  either  to  "  set  him 
up"  or  to  "  take  him  in."  "  Such  a  correct,  sensible 
young  man  has  he  become,"  quoth  Grimson. 

Things  were  thus  beautifully  en  train,  when  Mr. 
Grimson  rashly  sent  his  protege  with  a  sum  of  money 
to  be  used  in  a  specified  way  in  a  neighbouring  city,  and 
the  protege,  who  longed  to  indulge  himself  in  that  which 
ae  classically  termed  a  "  knock-around,"  took  his  allies 
Diggs,  Sniggs,  and  Twiggs  with  him.  The  "  cash  proper'* 
being  expended — the  wine  being  in  and  the  wit  being 
out — Tippleton  being  a  whole-souled  fellow,  and  his 
companions  knowing  it,  the  "  cash  improper"  was  diverted 
from  its  legitimate  channel,  and  after  a  few  days  of  roar- 
ing mirth,  they  returned  rather  dejected  and  disheartened. 
*  *  *  *  * 

"Come,  what's  the  use  of  sighing?"  roared  Tipple- 
ton,  as  they  sat  dolorously  in  a  snug  corner  at  the  head- 
quarters of  the  whole-souled  fellows.  "  The  money's 
not  quite  out — Champagne  !" 

"  Bravo,  Tippleton  !"  responded  his  companions,  and 
the  corks  flew  merrily — "  That's  the  only  way  to  see 
one's  road  out  of  trouble." 

"  Another  bottle,  Dout ! — that  for  Grimson  !"  shouted 
Tipps,  snapping  his  fingers — "  I'll  run  off  with  hia 
daughter — what  do  you  say  to  that,  Dicky  Dout  ?" 


i76  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

Dicky  dodged  the  cork  which  was  flirted  at  him,  and 
regarding  the  company  with  a  lugubrious  air,  observed : 

"  Accordin'  to  me,  gettin'  coriied's  no  way — there's 
only  two  business  sitiations  in  which  it's  allowable — 
one's  when  you're  so  skeered  you  can't  tell  what  to  do, 
and  the  other's  when  your  eyes  is  sot  and  it's  no  use 
doin'  nothin' — when  you're  goin',  and  when  you're 
gone — it  makes  you  go  by  a  sort  of  a  slant,  instead  of  a 
bumping  tumble.  It  eases  a  feller  down  like  a  tayckle, 
when  on  temperance  principles  he'd  break  his  neck. 
For  my  part,  I  think  this  bustin'  of  yourn  looks  bad" — 
Dicky  filled  a  glass  and  drained  its  contents — "  'spe- 
cially when  you're  goin'  it  on  crab-apple  cider." 

"  Get  out,  Dicky  Dout ! — Fetch  some  cigars,  Dicky 
Dout!" 

The  party  sang  songs,  the  party  made  speeches,  and 
the  party  rapidly  drank  up  the  remainder  of  Mr.  Grim- 
son's  cash,  a  catastrophe  which  in  their  present  state  of 
mind  did  not  trouble  them  at  all,  except  when  they  re- 
membered that  no  more  money,  no  more  wine.  Boniface 
was  used  to  dealing  with  whole-souled  fellows. 

"  Order,  gentlemen !"  said  Tipps,  rising  to  deliver  an 
address — "  I  don't  get  upon  my  feet  to  impugn  the  eye- 
sight, gentlemen,  or  the  ear-sight,  gentlemen,  of  any 
member  present ;  but  merely  to  state  that  there  are  facts 
— primary  facts,  like  a  kite,  and  contingent  facts,  like 
Dob-tails — one  set  of  facts  that  hang  on  to  another  set  of 
facts" — and  Tippleton  grasped  the  table  to  support  him- 
self. "  The  first  of  these  facts  is,  that  in  looking  out  at 
the  window  I  see  snow — I  likewise  hear  sleigh-bells,  from 
which  we  have  the  bob-tailed  contingent  that  we  ought 
to  go  a  sleighing  to  encourage  domestic  manufactures." 

"  Hurra !"  said  Diggs  and  Sniggs — "  let's  go  a 
sleighing !" 


A  WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  177 

"  Hurray  !"  muttered  Twiggs,  who  sat  drowsing  over 
an  extinguished  cigar  and  an  empty  glass — "  let's  go  a 
Maying !" 

"I  have  stated,* gentlemen,"  continued  Tipps,  sway 
ing  to  and  fro,  and  endeavouring  to  squeeze  a  drop  from 
a  dry  bottle — "  several  facts,  but  there  is  another — a 
further  contingent — the  sleighing  may  be  good,  and  we 
ought  to  go — but,  gentlemen,  we've  got  no  money  ! 
That's  what  I  call  an  appalling  fact,  in  great  staring  capi- 
tals— the  money's  gone,  the  Champagne's  gone,  but 
though  we  made  'em  go,  we  can't  go  ourselves  !" 

Tippleton  Tipps  sank  into  his  chair,  and  added,  as  he 
sucked  at  his  cigar  with  closed  eyes : 

"  Capitalists  desiring  to  contract  will  please  send  in 
their  terms,  sealed  and  endorsed  '  Proposals  to  loan.'  " 

"  Cloaks,  watches,  and  breast-pins — spout  'em,"  hinted 
Dout  from  a  corner.  "We  whole-souled  people  always 
plant  sich  articles  in  sleighing-time,  and  let's  'em  crop 
out  in  the  spring." 

The  hint  was  taken.  As  the  moon  rose,  a  sleigh  whiz- 
zed rapidly  along  the  street,  and  as  it  passed,  Tippleton 
Tipps  was  seen  bestriding  it  like  a  Colossus,  whirling 
his  arms  as  if  they  were  the  fans  of  a  windmill,  and 
screaming  "  'Tis  my  delight  of  a  shiny  night !"  in  which 
his  associates,  including  Dout,  who  was  seated  by  the 
driver,  joined  with  all  their  vocal  power- 

"  'Twas  merry  in  the  parlor,  'twas  meny  in  the  hall," 
when  Tippleton,  cum  suis,  alighted  at  a  village  inn. 
Fiddles  were  playing  and  people  were  dancing  all  over 
he  house,  and  the  new  arrivals  did  not  lose  time  in 
edding  to  the  jovial  throng.  Tippleton,  seizing  the  bar- 
maid's cap,  placed  it  on  his  own  head,  and  using  the 
shovel  and  tongs  for  the  apparatus  of  a  fiddler,  danced 
and  played  on  top  of  the  table,  while  Dout  beat  the  door 
142 


178  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

by  way  of  a  drum,  and  Diggs,  Sniggs,  and  Twiggs  dis- 
turbed the  "  straight  fours"  of  the  company  in  the  general 
assembly-room  by  a  specimen  of  tjje  Winnebago  war- 
dance,  the  whole  being  accompanied  by  whoopings  after 
the  manner  of  the  aborigines. 

The  clamor  drew  the  "  select  parties"  into  the  passages 
to  see  the  latest  arrivals  from  Pandemonium. 

"  Who  cares  for  Grimson  ?"  said  Tipps,  as  he  fiddled 
and  sung  the  following  choice  morceau  from  Quizembob's 
Reliques  of  Lyric  Poetry — 

"  Oh  !  my  father-in-law  to  me  was  cross  / 
Oh  'twas  neither  for  the  better,  nor  yet  for  the  worse  i 
He  neither  would  give  me  a  cow  nor  fa  horse," — 

when  Mr.  Grimson  and  Miss  Jemima  Grimson  from  the 
"  select  parties"  stood  before  him. 

"  So,  Mr.  Tippleton  Tipps,  this  is  your  reform ! 
be  pleased  to  follow  me,  and  give  an  account  of  the 
business  intrusted  to  your  charge,"  said  Mr.  Grimson 
sternly. 

"  Ha  !  ha !"  laughed  Tippleton,  fiddling  up  to  him — 
"business — pooh!  Dance,  my  old  buck,  dance  like  a 
whole-souled  fellow — like  me — dance,  Jemimy,  it  may 
make  you  pretty — 

"  He  neither  would  give  me  a  cow  nor  a  horse" 

Mr.  Grimson  turned  indignantly  on  his  heel,  and  Miss 
Jemima  Grimson,  frowning  volumes  of  disdain  at  seeing 
her  lover  thus  attired  and  thus  disporting  himself,  and 
at  hearing  him  thus  contumelious  to  her  personal  charms, 
gave  him  what  is  poetically  termed  "  a  look,"  and  sailed 
majestically  out  of  the  room  leaning  on  her  father's  arm 

"Ha!  ha!"  said  Tippleton,  continuing  to  fiddle 
'  The  speckilation's  got  the  grippe,"  added  Dout. 


A  WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW.  179 

It  was  nearly  morning  when  a  pair  of  horses,  with 
the  fragments  of  a  sleigh  knocking  about  their  heels, 
dashed  wildly  into  Millet's  stable  yard.  They  were  the 
ponies  which  had  drawn  Tippleton  Tipps  and  his  cohort! 
but  where  were  those  worthy  individuals  ?  At  the 
corner  of  a  street,  where  the  snow  and  water  had  formed 
a  delusive  compound  as  unstable  as  the  Goodwin  sands, 
lay  Tippleton  half  "  smothered  in  cream" — ice  cream, 
while  "  his  lovely  companions"  were  strewed  along  the 
wayside  at  various  intervals,  according  to  the  tenacity  of 
their  grasp. 

"  The  tea  party's  spilt,"  said  Dicky  Dout,  as  he  went 
feeling  among  the  snow  with  a  fragment  of  the  wreck, 
and  at  length  forked  up  Tippleton,  as  if  he  were  a  dump- 
ling in  a  bowl  of  soup. 

The  tableau  was  striking.  The  tender-hearted  Dout 
sat  upon  the  curbstone  with  Tippleton's  head  upon  his 
knee,  trying  to  rub  a  little  life  into  him.  It  was  a  second 
edition  of  Marmion  and  Clara  de  Clare  at  Flodden  field, 
the  Lord  of  Fontenaye  and  Tippleton  Tipps  both  being 
at  the  climax  of  their  respective  catastrophes. 

"  Ah  !"  said  Dout,  heaving  a  deep  sigh  as  he  rubbed 
away  at  his  patient's  forehead,  as  if  it  were  a  boot  to 
clean,  "  this  night  has  been  the  ruination  of  us  all — 
we're  smashed  up  small  and  sifted  through.  Here  lies 
Mr.  Tipps  in  a  predicary — and  me  and  the  whole  on  'em 
is  little  better  nor  a  flock  of  gone  goslings.  It's  man's 
natur',  I  believe,  and  we  can't  help  it  no  how.  As  fur  me, 
I  wish  I  was  a  pig — there's  some  sense  in  being  a  pig 
wot's  fat;  pigs  don't  have  to  speckilate  and  bust — pigs 
never  go  a  sleighing,  quarrel  with  their  daddies-in-law 
wot  was  to  be,  get  into  sprees,  and  make  tarnal  fools  of 
themselves.  Pigs  is  decent  behaved  people  and  good 
"hizens,  though  they  ain't  got  no  wote.  And  then  they 


180  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

naven't  got  no  clothes  to  put  on  of  cold  mornings  when 
they  get  up  ;  they  don't  have  to  be  darnin'  and  patchin' 
their  old  pants ;  they  don't  wear  no  old  hats  on  their 
heads,  nor  have  to  ask  people  for  'em — cold  wittles  is 
plenty  for  pigs.  My  eyes  !  it  I  was  a  jolly  fat  pig 
belonging  to  respectable  people,  it  would  be  tantamount 
to  nothin'  with  me  who  was  president.  Who  ever  see'd 
one  pig  a  settin'  on  a  cold  curbstone  a  rubbin'  anothei 
pig's  head  wot  got  chucked  out  of  a  sleigh  ?  Pigs 
has  too  much  sense  to  go  a  ridin'  if  so  be  as  they  can 
help  it.  I  wish  I  was  one,  and  out  of  this  scrape. 
It's  true,"  continued  Dout  thoughtfully,  and  pulling 
Tippleton's  nose  till  it  cracked  at  the  bridge-joint, — "  it's 
true  that  pigs  has  their  troubles  like  humans — constables 
ketches  'em,  dogs  bites  'em,  and  pigs  is  sometimes  almost 
as  done-over  suckers  as  men  ;  but  pigs  never  runs  their 
own  noses  into  scrapes,  coaxin'  themselves  to  believe  it's 
fun,  as  we  do.  I  never  see  a  pig  go  the  whole  hog  in 
my  life,  'sept  upon  rum  cherries.  I'm  thinkin'  Mr. 
Tipps  is  defunct ;  he  sleeps  as  sound  as  if  it  was  time  to 
get  up  to  breakfast." 

But  Tipps  slowly  revived  ;  he  rolled  his  glassy  eye 
wildly,  the  other  being,  as  it  were,  "put  up  for  exporta- 
tion," or  "bunged"  as  they  have  it  in  the  vernacular. 

"Mister  Tipps,"  said  Dout,  "  do  you  know  what's 
the  matter?" 

"Fun's  the  matter,  isn't  it  ?"  gasped  Tipps ;  "I've 
been  a  sleighing,  and  we  always  do  it  so — it's  fun  this 
way — but  what's  become  of  my  other  eye  ? — Where's — 
stop — I  remember.  The  horses  and  sleigh  were  in  a 
hurry,  and  couldn't  stay — compliments  to  the  folks,  but 
can't  sit  down." 

"  Your  t'other  eye,"  replied  Dout,  "  as  fur  as  I  can 
*«e,  is  kivered  up  to  keep ;  the  wire-edge  is  took  con- 


A    WHOLE-SOULED    FELLOW  181 

siclerable  off  your  nose — your  coat  is  split  as  if  somebody 
wanted  to  make  a  pen  of  it,  and  your  trousers  is  fractured." 

"  Well,  I  thought  the  curbstone  was  uncommonly  cold. 
What  with  being  pitched  out  of  the  sleigh,  and  the  grand 
combat  at  the  hotel,  we've  had  the  whole-souled'st  time 
— knocked  almost  into  a  cocked  hat.  But  if  you  don't 
get  thrashed,  you  haven't  been  a  sleighing.  What  can 
science  do  in  a  room  against  chairs,  pokers,  shovels,  and 
tongs  ?  Swing  it  into  'em  as  pretty  as  you  please,  it's 
ten  to  one  if  you're  not  quaited  down  stairs  like  clothes 
to  wash.  Fun  alive  ! — " 

Here  Tippleton  Tipps  yelled  defiance,  and  attempted 
to  show  how  fields  were  won — or  lost,  as  in  his  case ; 
but  nature  is  a  strict  banker,  and  will  not  honour  your 
drafts  when  no  funds  are  standing  to  your  credit. 

"Ah!"  panted  he,  as  he  fell  back  into  the  arms  of 
Mr.  Dout;  "  my  frolic's  »ver  for  once — broke  off  with 
Grimson,  spent  his  money — sleigh  all  in  flinders,  and  I'll 
have  to  get  a  doctor  to  hunt  for  my  eye  and  put  my  nose 
in  splints.  Ha  !  ha  !  there  is  no  mistake  in  me — always 
come  home  from  enjoying  myself,  sprawling  on  a  shut- 
ter, as  a  gentleman  should — give  me  something  to  talk 
about — who's  afraid  ?" 

Even  Dout  was  surprised  to  hear  such  valiant  words 
from  the  drenched  and  pummelled  mass  before  him ;  and 
as  he  stared,  Tippleton  mutteringly  asked  to  be  taken 
home. 

"  I'm  a  whole-souled  fellow,"  whispered  he  faintly — 
"  whole-souled  — and — no — mistake — about — the — mat- 
ter— at — all." 

Assistance  and  "  a  shutter"  being  procured,  Tippleton 
Tipps  was  conveyed  to  his  lodgings,  where  with  a  black 
patch  across  his  nose,  a  green  shade  over  one  eye,  the 
other  being  coloured  purple,  blue,  and  yellow  halfway  to 


182  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

the  jaw,  his  upper  lip  in  the  condition  of  that  of  the  man 
"wot  won  the  fight,"  his  left  arm  in  a  sling,  and  his 
right  ankle  sprained,  sat  Tippleton  for  at  least  a  month, 
the  very  impersonation,  essence,  and  aroma  of  a  "  whole- 
souled  fellow."  As  soon,  however,  as  he  was  in  marching 
order,  he  suddenly  disappeared,  or  perhaps  was  exhaled, 
like  Romulus  and  other  great  men,  boldly  walking  right 
through  his  difficulties,  and  leaving  them  behind  him  in 
a  state  of  orphanage. 

The  last  heard  of  Dout  was  his  closing  speech  after 
taking  Tipps  home  on  the  night  of  the  catastrophe. 

"  My  speculation  has  busted  its  biler.  To  my  notion 
this  'ere  is  a  hard  case.  If  I  tries  to  mosey  along  through 
the.  world  without  saying  nothin'  to  nobody,  it  won't  do 
— livin'  won't  come  of  itself,  like  the  man  you  owe 
money  to — you  are  obligated  to  step  and  fetch  it.  If  I 
come  fur  to  go  fur  to  paddle  ^ny  tub  quietly  down  the 
gutter  of  life  without  bumping  agin  the  curbstone  on  one 
side,  I'm  sure  to  get  aground  on  the  other,  or  to  be  upsot 
somehow.  If  I  tries  little  speckilations  sich  as  boning 
things,  I'm  sartin  to  be  cotch ;  and  if  I  goes  pardeners, 
as  I  did  with  Mr.  Tipps,  it  won't  do.  Fips  and  levies 
ain't  as  plenty  as  snowballs  in  this  'ere  yearthly  spear. 
But  talking  of  snowballs,  I  wish  I  was  a  nigger.  Nobody 
will  buy  a  white  man,  but  a  stout  nigger  is  worth  the 
slack  of  two  or  three  hundred  dollars.  I  hardly  believe 
myself  there  is  so  much  money ;  but  they  say  so,  and 
if  I  could  get  a  pot  of  blackin'  and  some  brushes,  I'd 
give  myself  a  coat,  and  go  and  hang  myself  up  for  sale 
in  the  Jarsey  Market,  like  a  froze  possum." 

Dout  walked  gloomily  away,  and  the  story  goes  that 
when  this  whole-souled  fellow  in  humble  life  was  finally 
arrested  as  a  vagrant,  his  last  aspiration  as  he  entered  the 
prison,  was:  "Oh!  I  wish  I  was  a  pig,  'cause  they 
ain't  got  to  go  to  jail !" 


(  183) 

GAMALIEL  GAMBRIL; 

OK,    DOMESTIC     UNEASINESS 


IT  may  be  a  truism,  yet  we  cannot  help  recording  it  as 
o.tr  deliberate  opinion,  that  life  is  begirt  with  troubles. 
The  longer  we  live,  the  more  we  are  convinced  of  the 
fact — solidly,  sincerely  convinced ;  especially  in  cold 
weather,  when  all  evils  are  doubled,  and  great  annoy- 
ances are  reinforced  by  legions  of  petty  vexations.  The 
happiest  conditions  of  existence — among  which  it  is 
usual  to  class  matrimony — are  not  without  their  alloy. 
There  is  a  principle  of  equity  always  at  work,  and,  there- 
fore, where  roses  strew  the  path,  thorns  are  sharpest 
and  most  abundant.  Were  it  otherwise,  frail  humanity 
might  at  times  forget  its  mortal  nature— as  it  is  apt  to  do 
when  not  roughly  reminded  of  the  fact — and  grow  alto- 
gether too  extensive  for  its  nether  integuments. 

A  stronger  proof  that  "  there's  naught  but  care  on 
every  hand,"  and  that  it  is  often  nearest  when  least  ex- 
pected, could  not  be  found,  than  in  the  case  of  Gamaliel 
Gambril  the  cobbler,  an  influential  and  well  known  resi- 
dent of  Ringbone  Alley,  a  section  of  the  city  wherein  he 
has  "  a  voice  potential,  double  as  the  Duke's."  Gama- 
liel's Christmas  gambols  —  innocent  as  he  deemed 
them  —  terminated  in  the  revolt  of  his  household, 
a  species  of  civil  war  which  was  the  more  distress- 
ing to  him  as  it  came  like  a  cloud  after  sunshine, 


184  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

darker  and  more  gloomy  from  the  preceding  light.  It  is 
often  thus  with  frail  humanity.  The  keenest  vision  can- 
not penetrate  the  contracted  circle  of  the  present,  and  give 
certain  information  of  the  future.  Who,  that  sets  forth 
to  run  a  rig,  can  tell  in  what  that  rig  may  end  ?  The 
laughing  child,  unconscious  of  mishap,  pursues  the  sport- 
ive butterfly  and  falls  into  a  ditch ;  and  man,  proud  of 
his  whiskers,  his  experience,  and  his  foresight,  will  yet 
follow  that  phantom  felicity  until  he  gets  into  a  scrape. 
The  highways  and  the  byways  of  existence  are  filled 
with  man-traps  and  spring-guns,  and  happy  he  whose 
activity  is  so  great  that  he  can  dance  among  them  with 
uninjured  ankles,  and  escape  scot-free.  That  faculty, 
which  to  a  man  of  a  sportive  turn  of  mind  is  more  pre- 
cious than  rubies,  is  denied  to  Gamaliel  Gambril.  When 
convivially  inclined,  he  is  a  Napoleon,  whose  every  bat- 
tle-field is  a  Waterloo — a  Santa  Anna,  whose  San  Jacin- 
tos  are  innumerable. 

****** 

It  was  past  the  noon  of  night,  and  the  greater  part  of 
those  who  had  beds  to  go  to,  had  retired  to  rest.  Light 
after  light  had  ceased  to  flash  from  the  windows,  and 
every  house  was  in  darkness,  save  where  a  faintly  burning 
candle  in  the  attic  told  that  Sambo  or  Dinah  had  just 
finished  labour,  and  was  about  enjoying  the  sweets  of 
repose,  or  where  a  fitful  flashing  through  the  fan  light  of 
an  entry  door  hinted  at  the  fact  that  young  Hopeful  was 
still  abroad  at  his  revels.  It  seemed  that  the  whole  city 
and  liberties  were  in  bed,  and  the  active  imagination  of 
the  solitary  stroller  through  the  streets  could  not  avoid 
painting  the  scene.  He  figured  to  himself  the  two  hun- 
dred thousand  human  creatures  who  dwell  within  those 
precincts,  lying  prone  upon  their  couches — couches  varied 
as  their  fortunes,  and  in  attitudes  more  varied  than  either 


GAMALIEL    GAMBRIL.  185 

—some,  who  are  careless  of  making  a  figure  in  the  world, 
with  their  knees  drawn  up  to  their  chins ;  the  haughty 
and  ostentatious  stretched  out  to  their  full  extent ;  the  am- 
bitious, the  sleeping  would-be  CaBsars,  spread  abroad  like 
the  eagle  on  a  sign,  or  a  chicken  split  for  the  gridiron, 
each  hand  and  each  foot  reaching  toward  a  different  point 
of  the  compass  ;  the  timid  rolled  up  into  little  balls,  with 
their  noses  just  peeping  from  under  the  clothes  ;  and  the 
valiant  with  clenched  fists  and  bosoms  bare — for  charac- 
ter manifests  itself  by  outward  signs,  both  in  our  sleeping 
and  in  our  waking  moments  ;  and  if  the  imagination  of  the 
speculative  watcher  has  ears  as  well  as  eyes,  the  varied 
music  which  proceeds  from  these  two  hundred  thousand 
somnolent  bodies  will  vibrate  upon  his  tympanum — the 
dulcet  flute-like  snoring  which  melodiously  exhales  from 
the  Phidian  nose  of  the  sleeping  beauty ;  the  querulous 
whining  of  the  nervous  papa  ;  the  warlike  startling  snort 
of  mature  manhood,  ringing  like  a  trumpet  call,  and  rat- 
tling the  window  glass  with  vigorous  fury  ;  the  whistling, 
squeaking,  and  grunting  of  the  eccentric ;  and,  in  fine,  all 
the  diversified  sounds  with  which  our  race  choose  to  ac- 
company their  sacrifices  to  Morpheus. 

But  though  so  many  were  in  bed,  there  were  some 
who  should  have  been  in  bed  who  were  not  there.  On 
this  very  identical  occasion,  when  calmness  seemed  to 
rule  the  hour,  the  usually  quiet  precincts  of  Ringbono 
Alley  were  suddenly  disturbed  by  a  tremendous  clatter. 
But  .oud  as  it  was,  the  noise  for  a  time  continued  un- 
heeded. The  inhabitants  of  that  locality — who  are  excel- 
lent and  prudent  citizens,  and  always,  while  they  give 
their  arms  and  legs  a  holiday,  impose  additional  labour 
upon  their  digestive  organs — worn  out  by  the  festivities 
of  the  season,  and  somewhat  oppressed  with  a  feverish 
head-ache,  the  consequence  thereof,  were  generally 


186  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

asleep ;  and,  with  no  disposition  to  flatter,  or  to  assume 
more  for  them  than  they  are  entitled  to,  it  must  be  con- 
ceded that  the  Ringboners,  when  they  tie  up  their  heads 
and  take  off  their  coats  to  it,  are  capital  sleepers — none 
better.  They  own  no  relationship  to  those  lazy,  aristo- 
cratic dozers,  who  seem  to  despise  the  wholesome  em- 
ployment of  slumbering,  and,  instead  of  devoting  their 
energies  to  the  task,  amuse  themselves  with  counting  the 
clock,  and  with  idly  listening  to  every  cry  of  fire — who 
are  afraid  to  trust  themselves  unreservedly  to  the  night, 
and  are  so  suspicious  of  its  dusky  face,  and  so  doubtful 
of  the  fidelity  of  the  "  sentinel  stars,"  as  to  watch  both 
night  and  stars.  Unlike  this  nervous  race,  the  Ring- 
boners  have  in  general  nothing  to  tell  when  they  assem- 
ble round  the  breakfast  table.  They  eat  heartily,  and 
grumble  not  about  the  badness  of  their  rest ;  for  their 
rest  has  no  bad  to  it.  They  neither  hear  the  shutters  slam 
in  the  night,  nor  are  they  disturbed  by  mysterious  knock 
ings  about  three  in  the  morning.  They  do  not,  to  make 
others  ashamed  of  their  honest  torpidity,  ask,  "  Where 
was  the  fire  ?"  and  look  astonished  that  no  one  heard 
the  alarm.  On  the  contrary,  when  they  couch  them- 
selves, they  are  only  wide  enough  awake  to  see  the 
candle  out  of  the  corner  of  one  eye,  and  nothing  is  audi- 
ble to  them  between  the  puff  which  extinguishes  the 
light  and  the  call  to  labour  at  the  dawn.  When  their 
heads  touch  the  pillow,  their  optics  are  closed  and  their 
mouths  are  opened.  Each  proboscis  sounds  the  charge 
into  the  land  of  Nod,  and  like  Eastern  monarchs,  they 
slumber  to  slow  music,  Ringbone  Alley  being  vocal  with 
one  tremendous  snore. 

No  wonder  that  such  a  praiseworthy  people,  so  cir- 
cumstanced, should  not  be  easily  awakened  by  the  noise 
before  alluded  to.  But  the  disturbance  grew  louder ;  the 


GAMALIEL    GAMBRIL.  187 

little  dogs  frisked  and  barked  ;  the  big  dogs  yawned  and 
bayed  ;  the  monopolizing  cats,  who  like  nobody's  noise 
but  their  own,  whisked  their  tails  and  flew  through  the 
cellar  windows  in  dismay.  The  alley,  which,  like 
Othello,  can  stand  most  things  unmoved,  was  at  last 
waking  up,  and  not  a  few  night-capped  heads  projected 
like  whitewashed  artillery  through  the  embrasures  of 
the  upper  casements,  dolefully  and  yawnfully  "  vanting 
to  know  vo.t  vos  the  row  ?" 

The  opening  of  Gamaliel  Gambril's  front  door  an- 
swered the  question.  He  and  his  good  lady  were  earn- 
estly discussing  some  problem  of  domestic  economy-- 
some knotty  point  as  to  the  reserved  rights  of  parties  to 
the  matrimonial  compact.  It  soon,  however,  became 
evident  that  the  husband's  reasoning,  if  not  perfectly  con- 
vincing, was  too  formidable  and  weighty  to  be  resisted. 
Swift  as  the  flash,  Madam  Gambril  dashed  out  of  the 
door,  while  Gamaliel,  like  "  panting  time,  toiled  after  her 
in  vain,"  flourishing  a  strap  in  one  hand  and  a  broom  in 
the  other.  Though  the  night  was  foggy,  it  was  clear 
that  something  unusual  was  the  matter  with  Gamaliel. 
His  intellectual  superstructure  had,  by  certain  unknown 
means,  become  too  heavy  for  his  physical  framework. 
Mind  was  triumphing  over  matter,  and,  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected, matter  proving  weak,  the  immortal  mind  had 
many  tumbles  ;  but  still,  rolling,  tumbling,  and  stum- 
bling, Gamaliel,  like  Alpheus,  pursued  his  Arethusa;  not 
until  the  flying  fair  was  metamorphosed  into  a  magic 
stream,  but  until  he  pitched  into  an  urban  water-course 
of  a  less  poetic  nature,  which  checked  his  race,  while  its 
waves  soothed  and  measurably  tranquillized  his  nervous 
system.  At  the  catastrophe,  Mrs.  Gambril  ceased  her 
flight,  but  after  the  manner  of  the  Cossacks  of  the  Don 


i88  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES 

or  the  Mahratta  cavalry,  kept  circling  round  the  enemy — 
out  of  striking  distance,  yet  within  hail. 

"  Gammy  Gambril,"  said  she,  appealing  to  the  argu- 
mentum  ad  hominem,  in  reply  to  that  ad  baculum  from 
which  she  fled — "  Gammy,  you're  a  mere  warmunt — a 
pitiful  warmunt ;  leave  me  no  money — not  at  home  these 
two  days  and  nights,  and  still  no  money  ! — now  you  are 
come,  what  do  you  fetch  ? — a  tipsy  cobbler !  Hot  corn  is 
good  for  something,  and  so  is  corned  beef;  but  I'd  like 
to  know  what's  the  use  of  a  corned  cobbler  ?" 

"  Corneycopey  for  ever !  It's  merry  Christmas  and 
happy  New  Year,  old  woman !"  said  Gambril,  raising 
himself  with  great  difficulty  to  a  sitting  posture  ;  "  and 
I'll  larrup  you  like  ten  thousand,  if  you'll  only  come  a 
little  nearer.  Ask  for  money  on  a  Christmas  ! — it's  too 
aggrawatin' ! — it's  past  endurin' !  I'm  bin  jolly  myself — 
I'm  jolly  now,  and  if  you  ain't  jolly,  come  a  little  nearer 
and  [flourishing  the  slrap~\  I'll  make  you  jolly." 

Much  conversation  of  a  similar  tenor  passed  between 
the  parties  ;  but  as  the  argument  continued  the  same,  no 
new  ideas  were  elicited,  until  Montezuma  Dawkins,  a 
near  neighbour,  and  a  man  of  a  rather  nervous  tempera- 
ment— the  consequence  perhaps  of  being  a  bachelor- 
stepped  out  to  put  an  end  to  the  noise,  which  interfered 
materially  with  his  repose. 

"  Go  home,  Mrs.  Gambril,"  said  Montezuma  Daw 
kins  soothingly ;  and  as  she  obeyed,  he  turned  to  Mr 
Gambril,  and  remarked  in  a  severe  tone,  "  This  'ere'a 
too  bad,  Gammy — right  isn't  often  done  in  the  world ; 
but  if  you  had  your  rights,  you'd  be  between  the  finger 
and  thumb  of  justice — just  like  a  pinch  of  snuff — you'd 
be  took." 

Montezuma   Dawkins   prided   himself    on    his  legal 


GAMALIEL    GAMBRIL.  189 

knowledge,  for  he  had  made  the  fires  in  a  magistrate's 
office  during  a  whole  winter,  and  consequently  was  well 
qualified  to  lecture  his  neighbours  upon  their  errors  in 
practice. 

"  Nonsense,"  replied  Gammy — "  me  took  when  it's 
Christmas  ! — well  I  never  ! — did  any  body  ever  ? — I'm 
be  switch'd — " 

"  No  swearing.  This  'ere  is  a  connubibal  case — con- 
nubibalities  in  the  street ;  and  the  law  is  as  straight  as  a 
loon's  leg  on  that  pint.  You  don't  understand  the  law, 
I  s'pose  ?  Well,  after  you're  growed  up,  and  your  real 
poppy — or  your  pa,  as  the  people  in  Chestnut  street 
would  call  him — can't  keep  you  straight,  because  you 
can  lick  him,  which  is  what  they  mean  by  being  of  age, 
then  the  law  becomes  your  poppy,  because  it  isn't  so 
easy  to  lick  the  law.  The  law,  then,  allows  you  a  wife  ; 
but  the  law  allows  it  in  moderation,  like  any  thing  else. 
Walloping  her  is  one  of  the  little  fondlings  of  the  con- 
nubibal state  ;  but  if  it  isn't  done  within  doors,  and  with- 
out a  noise,  like  taking  a  drop  too  muAi,  why  then  it 
ain't  moderation,  and  the  law  steps  in  to  stop  intempe- 
rate amusements.  Why  don't  you  buy  a  digestion  of 
the  laws,  so  as  to  know  what's  right  and  what's  wrong  ? 
It's  all  sot  down." 

"  The  law's  a  fool,  and  this  isn't  the  first  time  I've 
thought  so  by  a  long  shot.  If  it  wasn't  for  the  law, 
and  for  being  marrie'd,  a  man  might  get  along  well 
enough.  But  now,  first  your  wife  aggrawates  you,  and 
then  the  law  aggrawates  you.  I'm  in  a  state  of  aggra 
wation." 

"  That  all  comes  from  your  not  knowing  law — them 
that  don't  know  it  get  aggrawated  by  it,  but  them  that  does 
know  it  only  aggrawates  other  people.  But  you  ignorant- 
ramusses  are  always  in  trouble,  'specially  if  you're 


190  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

married.  What  made  you  get  married  if  you  don't 
like  it  ?" 

"  Why,  I  was  deluded  into  it — fairly  deluded.  I  had 
nothing  to  do  of  evenings,  so  I  went  a  courting.  Now, 
courting's  fun  enough — I  haven't  got  a  word  to  say  agin 
courting.  It's  about  as  good  a  way  of  killing  an  evening 
as  I  know  of.  Wash  your  face,  put  on  a  clean  dicky, 
and  go  and  talk  as  sweet  as  nugey  or  molasses  candy 
for  an  hour  or  two — to  say  nothing  of  a  few  kisses  be- 
hind the  door,  as  your  sweetheart  goes  to  the  step  with 
you.  The  fact  is,  I've  quite  a  taste  and  a  genus  for  court- 
ing— it's  all  sunshine,  and  no  clouds." 

"  Well,  if  y\)u  like  it  so,  why  didn't  you  stick  to  it;  it's 
easy  enough  ;  court  all  the  time,  like  two  pretty  people 
in  a  pickter." 

"  Not  so  easy  as  you  think  for;  they  won't  let  a  body 
court  all  the  time — that's  exactly  where  the  mischief  lies. 
If  you  say  A,  they'll  make  you  say  B.  The  young  'uns 
may  stand  it  because  they're  bashful  sometimes,  but  the 
old  ladies  always  interfere,  and  make  you  walk  right 
straight  up  to  the  chalk,  whether  or  no.  Marry  or  cut  stick 
— you  mustn't  stand  in  other  people's  moonshine.  That's 
the  way  they  talked  to  me,  and  druv'  me  right  into  my 
own  moonshine.  They  said  marrying  was  fun  ! — pooty 
fun  to  be  sure  !" 

"  Well,  Gammy,  I  see  clea/  enough  you're  in  a 
scrape ;  but  it's  a  scrape  accordin'  to  law,  and  so  you 
can't  help  your  sad  sitivation.  You  must  make  the  best 
of  it.  Better  go  home  and  pacify  the  old  lady — larrupings 
don't  do  any  good  as  I  see — they're  not  wholesome  food 
for  anybody  except  hosses  and  young  children" — and 
Montezuma  yawned  drearily  as  if  anxious  to  terminate 
the  colloquy. 

"  The  fact  is,  Montey — to  tell  you  a  secret — I've  y 


GAMALIEL    GAMBRIL.  191 

great  mind  to  walk  off.  4  hate  domestic  uneasiness,  and 
there's  more  of  that  at  my  house  than  there  is  of  eatables 
and  drinkables  by  a  good  deal.  I  should  like  to  leave  it 
behind  me.  A  man  doesn't  want  much  when  he  gets 
experience  and  comes  to  look  at  things  properly — he 
leains  that  the  vally  of  wives  and  other  extras  is  tanta- 
mount to  nothing — it's  only  essentials  he  cares  about. 
Now  I'm  as  hungry  as  a  poor  box,  and  as  thirsty  as  a  cart 
load  of  sand — not  for  water,  though ;  that's  said  to  be 
good  for  navigation  and  internal  improvements,  but  it 
always  hurts  my  wholesome,  and  I'm  principled  against 
using  the  raw  material — it's  bad  for  trade.  I  can't  go 
home,  even  if  there  was  any  use  in  it ;  and  so  I  believe 
I'll  emigrate — I'll  be  a  sort  of  pinioneer,  and  fly  away." 

"It  can't  be  allowed,  Gammy  Gambril.  If  you  try  it 
and  don't  get  off  clear,  the  law  will  have  you  as  sure  as 
a  gun — for  this  'ere  is  one  of  them  'are  pints  of  law  what 
grabs  hold  of  you  strait — them  husbands  as  cut  stick 
must  be  made  examples  on.  If  they  wasn't,  all  the  he- 
biddies  in  town  would  be  cutting  stick.  To  allow  such 
cuttings  up  and  such  goings  on  is  taking  the  mortar  out 
of  society  and  letting  the  bricks  tumble  down.  Indivi- 
duals must  sometimes  keep  in  an  uneasy  posture,  for  the 
good  of  the  rest  of  the  people.  The  world's  like  a  flock 
of  sheep,  and  if  one  runs  crooked  all  the  rest  will  be  sure 
to  do  the  same." 

Gamaliel  elevated  his  eyebrows  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders  in  contempt  at  the  application  of  the  abstract 
principle  to  his  individual  case,  and  then  reverted  to  his 
original  train  of  thought.  After  rising  to  his  feet,  he 
turned  his  eyes  upward  and  struck  a  classical  attitude. 

"Marrying  fun!"  ejaculated  he — "yes,  pooty  fun! 
very  pooty !" 

"  Keep  a  goirf  ahead,"  said  Montezuma  Dawkins. 
13 


192  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

poking  him  with  a  stick, — "talk  as  you  go,  and  let's  hear 
the  rights  of  it." 

"  When  I  was  a  single  man,  the  world  wagged  along 
well  enough.  It  was  jist  like  an  omnibus  :  I  was  a  passen- 
ger, paid  my  levy,  and  hadn't  nothing  more  to  do  with  it 
but  sit  down  and  not  care  a  button  for  any  thing.  S'posing 
the  omnibus  got  upsot — well,  I  walks  off,  and  leaves  the 
man  to  pick  up  the  pieces.  But  then  I  must  take  a  wife 
and  be  hanged  to  me.-  It's  all  very  well  for  a  while  ; 
but  afterwards,  it's  plaguy  like  owning  an  upsot  omni- 
bus." 

"  'Nan?"  queried  Montezuma — "  What's  all  that  about 
omnibusses  ?" 

"  What  did  I  get  by  it  ?"  continued  Gamaliel,  regard- 
less of  the  interruption.  "  How  much  fun  ? — why  a  jaw- 
ing old  woman  and  three  squallers.  Mighty  different 
from  courting  that  is.  What's  the  fun  of  buying  things 
to  eat  and  things  to  wear  for  them,  and  wasting  good 
spreeing  money  on  such  nonsense  for  other  people  ?  And 
then,  as  for  doing  what  you  like,  there's  no  such  thing. 
You  can't  clear  out  when  people's  owing  you  so  much 
money  you  can't  stay  convenient.  No — the  nabbers  must 
have  you.  You  can't  go  on  a  spree  ;  for  when  you  come 
home,  missus  kicks  up  the  devil's  delight.  You  can't 
teach  her  better  manners — for  constables  are  as  thick  as 
blackberries.  In  short,  you  can't  do  nothing.  Instead  of 
*  Yes,  my  duck,'  and  '  No,  my  dear,  —'  As  you  please, 
honey,'  and  '  When  you  like,  lovey,'  like  it  was  in  court- 
ing times,  it's  a  riglar  row  at  all  hours.  Sour  looks  and 
cold  potatoes  ;  children  and  table-cloths  bad  off  for  soap 
— always  darning  and  mending,  and  nothing  ever  darned 
and  mended.  If  it  wasn't  that  I'm  partickelarly  sober, 
I'd  be  inclined  to  drink — it's  excuse  enough.  It's  heart- 
breaking, and  it's  all  owing  to  that  I've  such  a  pain  in 


GAMALIEL    GAMBRIL.  193 

ny  gizzard  of  mornings.      I'm  so  miserable  I  must  stop 
and  sit  on  the  steps." 

"  What's  the  matter  now  ?" 

"  I'm  getting  aggrawated.  My  wife's  a  savin'  critter — 
a  sword  of  sharpness — she  cuts  the  throat  of  my  felicity 
stabs  my  happiness,  chops  up  my  comforts,  and  snips  up 
all  my  Sunday-go-to-meetings  to  make  jackets  for  the 
boys — she  gives  all  the  wittels  to  the  children,  to  make 
me  spry  and  jump  about  like  a  lamp-lighter — I  can't 
stand  it — my  troubles  is  overpowering  when  I  come  to 
add  'em  up." 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  behave  nice — don't  make  a  noise 
in  the  street — be  a  man." 

"  How  can  I  be  a  man,  when  I  belong  to  somebody 
else  ?  My  hours  ain't  my  own — my  money  ain't  my 
own — I  belong  to  four  people  besides  myself — the  old 
woman  and  them  three  children.  I'm  a  partnership  con- 
cern, and  so  many  has  got  their  fingers  in  the  till  that  I 
must  bust  up.  I'll  break,  and  sign  over  the  stock  in 
trade  to  you." 

Montezuma,  however,  declined  being  the  assignee  in 
the  case  of  the  house  of  Gambril,  and  finally  succeeded 
in  prevailing  upon  him  to  abandon,  at  least  for  the  pre- 
sent, his  design  of  becoming  a  "  pinioneer,"  and  to  return 
to  his  home.  But  before  Gambril  closed  the  door,  he 
popped  out  his  head,  and  cried  aloud  to  his  retiring  friend, 

"  I  say,  Montezuma  Dawkins  ! — before  you  go — if 
you  know  anybody  that  wants  a  family  complete  to 
their  hands,  warranted  to  scold  as  loud  and  as  long  as 
any,  I'll  sell  cheap.  I  won't  run  away  just  yet,  but  1 
want  cash,  for  I'll  have  another  jollification  a  New  Year's 
Eve,  if  I  had  as  many  families  as  I've  got  fingers  and 
toes !" 

143 


THE  CROOKED  DISCIPLE 

OR,  THE  PRIDE  OF  MUSCLE. 


NATURE  too  frequently  forgets  to  infuse  the  sympathies 
into  the  composition  of  the  human  race,  and  hence  the 
world  is  afflicted  with  a  flood  of  evils.  Imperfect  as 
mankind  may  be  in  a  physical  point  of  view,  their  moral 
defects  are  immeasurably  greater,  and  these  chiefly  flow 
from  the  dearth  of  sympathy.  Social  offences,  as  well 
as  crimes,  are  in  'general  born  from  this  cause,  and  the 
sins  of  humanity  are  to  be  charged  upon  selfishness,  the 
weed  that  chokes  all  wholesome  plants  in  the  garden  of 
the  heart,  and  exhausts  the  soil.  It  manifests  itself  in  a 
variety  of  ways.  In  one  instance,  being  combined  with 
other  essentials,  it  makes  a  mighty  conqueror  ;  in  another, 
a  petty  larcenist ;  one  man  beats  his  wife  and  sots  at  an 
alehouse  ;  another  sets  the  world  in  a  blaze,  and  dying, 
becomes  the  idol  of  posterity  ;  all  from  the  same  cause — 
a  mind  concentred  on  itself.  •.  9 

The  forms  which  govern  society  were  intended  to 
counteract  the  aforesaid  neglect  of  dame  nature,  and  to 
keep  selfishness  in  check  ;  it  having,  been  early  dis- 
covered that  if  every  one  put  his  fingers  in  the  dish  at 
once,  a  strong  chance  existed  that  the  contents  thereof 
would  be  spilt,  and  all  would  be  compelled  to  go  home 
hungry.  I1  *vas  equally  clear  that  if  each  individual 


THE    CROOKED    DISCIPLE.  195 

lucked  up  his  coat  tails,  and  endeavoured  to  monopolize 
the  fire,  the  whole  company  would  be  likely  to  catch 
cold.  The  canon  was  therefore  issued  that  "  after  you" 
should  be  "  manners  ;"  and  that,  however  anxious  one 
may  be  to  get  the  biggest  piece,  he  should  not  obey  the 
promptings  of  nature  by  making  a  direct  grab  ;  but  rather 
effect  his  object  by  indirect  management — such  as  placing 
the  desired  morsel  nearest  himself,  and  then  handing  the 
plate — a  species  of  hocus  pocus,  which  puts  the  rest  of 
the  company  in  the  vocative,  and  enables  the  skill  of 
civilization  quietly  to  effect  that  which  in  earlier  times 
could  only  be  accomplished  by  superior  force,  and  at  the 
hazard  of  upsetting  the  table.  If  sympathy  were  the 
growth  of  every  mind,  politeness  and  deference  would  be 
spontaneous ;  but  as  it  is  not,  a  substitute — a  sort  of 
wooden  leg  for  the  natural  one — was  invented,  and  hence 
"  dancing  and  manners"  are  a  part  of  refined  education. 
Wine  glasses  are  placed  near  the  decanter,  and  tumblers 
near  the  pitcher,  that  inclination  may  receive  a  broad  hint, 
and  that  the  natural  man  may  not  rob  the  rest  of  the 
company  of  their  share  of  comfort,  by  catching  up  and 
draining  the  vessels  at  a  draught.  Chairs  stand  near  the 
dinner  table  to  intimate  that,  however  hungry  one  may 
be,  it  is  not  the  thing  to  jump  upon  the  board,  and, 
clutching  the  whole  pig,  to  gnaw  it  as  a  school-boy  does 
an  apple ;  while  plates,  with  their  attendant  knives  and 
forks,  show  that  each  one  must  be  content  with  a  portion, 
and  use  his  pickers  and  stealers  as  little  as  possible.  To 
get  along  smoothly,  it  was  also  ordained  that  we  must  smile 
when  it  would  be  more  natural  to  tumble  the  intruder 
out  of  the  window ;  and  that  no  matter  how  tired  we  may 
be,  we  must  not,  when  another  is  about  taking  our  seat, 
pull  it  from  under  him,  and  allow  him  to  bump  on  the 
floor. 


196  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

Although  education  has  done  much  to  supply  deficiei. 
cies,  and  to  make  mock  sympathy  out  of  calves'  heads 
when  the  real  article  is  not  to  be  found,  yet  education, 
potent  as  it  is,  cannot  do  all  things.    "  Crooked  disciples" 
will  exist  from  time  to  time,  and  to  prove  it,  let  the  story 

be  told  of 

JACOB  GRIGSBY. 

Of  crooked  disciples,  Jacob  Grigsby  is  the  crookedest. 
His  disposition  is  twisted  like  a  ram's  horn,  and  none 
can  tell  in  what  direction  will  be  the  next  turn.  He  is 
an  independent  abstraction — one  of  that  class,  who  df 
not  seem  aware  that  any  feelings  are  to  be  consulted  but 
their  own,  and  who  take  the  last  bit,  as  if  unconscious 
that  it  is  consecrated  to  that  useful  divinity  "  manners  ;" 
lads,  who  always  run  in  first  when  the  bell  rings,  and 
cannot  get  their  boots  off  when  any  body  tumbles  over- 
board; who,  when  compelled  to  share  their  bed  with 
another,  lie  in  that  engrossing  posture  called  "  catty- 
cornered,"  and  when  obliged  to  rise  early,  whistle,  sing 
and  dance,  that  none  may  enjoy  the  slumbers  denied  to 
them  ; — in  short,  he  strongly  resembles  that  engaging 
species  of  the  human  kind,  who  think  it  creditable  to 
talk  loud  at  theatres  and  concerts,  and  to  encore  songs 
and  concertos  which  nobody  else  wants  to  hear.  Grigs- 
by was  born  with  the  idea  that  the  rest  of  the  world, 
animate  or  inanimate,  was  constructed  simply  for  his 
special  amusement,  and  that  if  it  did  not  answer  the  pur- 
pose, it  was  his  indefeasible  right  to  declare  war  against 
the  offender.  When  a  boy,  he  was  known  as  a  "  real 
limb" — of  what  tree  it  is  unnecessary  to  specify.  He 
was  an  adept  in  placing  musk  melon  rinds  on  the  pave- 
ment for  the  accommodation  of  those  elderly  gentlemen 
whose  skating  days  were  over,  and  many  a  staid  matron 
received  her  most  impressive  lessons  in  ground  and  loft) 


THE    CROOKED    DISCIPLE.  197 

tumbling,  by  the  aid  of  cords  which  he  had  stretched 
across  the  way.  Every  child  in  the  neighbourhood 
learnt  to  "  see  London"  through  his  telescope,  and  he 
was  famous  for  teaching  youngsters  to  write  hog  Latin 
by  jerking  pens  full  of  ink  through  their  lips.  At  school 
he  was  remarkable  for  his  science  in  crooking  pins,  and 
placing  them  on  the  seats  of  the  unsuspicious,  and  ever 
since  he  has  continued  to  be  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  those 
who  are  unlucky  enough  to  come  in  contact  with  him. 

Grigsby  has  now  grown  to  man's  estate — a  small  pro- 
perty in  most  instances,  and  in  his  it  must  be  simply  the 
interest  of  his  whiskers,  which  extend  some  inches  be- 
yond his  nose  and  chin — he  having  nothing  else  clear 
of  embarrassment.  He  is  said  to  be  more  of  a  limb  than 
ever,  his  unaccommodating  spirit  having  increased  with 
his  trunk.  The  good  qualities  which  were  to  appear  in 
him  are  yet  in  the  soil,  no  sprouts  having  manifested 
themselves.  He  is  savagely  jocular  in  general,  and  jo- 
cosely quarrelsome  in  his  cups  in  particular.  He  stands 
like  a  bramble  in  life's  highway,  and  scratches  the  cuticle 
from  all  that  passes. 

This  amiable  individual  is  particularly  fond  of  culti- 
vating his  physical  energies,  and  one  of  his  chief  delights 
is  in  the  display  of  his  well  practised  powers.  He  some- 
times awakens  a  friend  from  a  day  dream,  by  a  slap  on 
the  shoulder  which  might  be  taken  for  the  blow  of  a  can- 
non ball.  His  salutation  is  accompanied  by  a  grasp  of 
your  hand,  so  vigorously  given  that  you  are  painfully 
reminded  of  his  affectionate  disposition  and  the  strength 
of  his  friendship  for  a  week  afterwards  ;  and  he  smiles  to 
see  his  victims  writhe  under  a  clutch  which  bears  no 
little  resemblance  in  its  pressure  to  the  tender  embrace 
of  a  smith's  vice.  To  this  Herculean  quality  Grigsby 
always  recurs  with  satisfaction,  and  indeed  it  must  be 


198  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

confessed  that  superiority,  either  real  or  imagined,  is  a 
great  source  of  pleasure  in  this  mundane  sphere.  There 
are  few  who  do  not  derive  satisfaction  from  believing 
that,  in  some  respect,  they  are  more  worthy  than  their 
neighbours — and  self-love,  if  the  truth  were  known,  per- 
forms many  curious  operations  to  enable  its  possessor  to 
enjoy  the  delight  of  thinking  that  there  are  points  in 
which  he  is  unsurpassed.  Should  his  countenance  be 
of  the  most  unprepossessing  cast,  he  gazes  in  the  mirror 
•  until  convinced  that  whatever  is  lost  in  beauty,  is  gained 
in  expression.  Should  he  have  a  temper  as  rash  and  un- 
reasonable as  the  whirlwind,  it  is  to  him  but  a  proof  of 
superior  susceptibility  and  of  an  energetic  will ;  if  thin, 
he  is  satisfied  that  he  possesses  a  free  unencumbered 
spirit;  and  if  nature  has  provided  him  with  a  super 
abundance  of  flesh,  he  comforts  himself  with  the  idea  of 
an  imposing  aspect,  and  of  being  able,  physically  at  least, 
to  make  a  figure  in  the  world.  The  melancholy  man, 
instead  of  charging  his  nervous  system  with  treachery, 
or  his  stomach  with  disaffection,  finds  a  stream  of  sun- 
shine in  his  gloom,  from  the  impression  that  it  is  left  to 
him  alone  to  see  reality  divested  of  its  deceptive  hues— 
and  smiles  sourly  on  the  merry  soul  who  bears  it  as  if 
existence  were  a  perpetual  feast,  and  as  if  he  were  a  but- 
terfly upon  an  ever-blooming  prairie. 

The  pride  of  art  likewise  comes  in  as  a  branch  of  this 
scheme  of  universal  comfort.  The  soldier  and  the  poli- 
tician rejoice  in  their  superior  skill  in  tactics  and  strate- 
gic— and  even  if  foiled,  charge  the  result  upon  circum- 
stances beyond  their  control ;  while  even  the  scavenger 
plumes  himself  upon  the  superior  skill  and  accuracy  with 
which  he  can  execute  the  fancy  work  of  sweeping  round 
a  post :  but  none  feel  the  pride  of  which  we  speak  more 
strongly  than  those  who  are  addicted  to  the  practice  of 


THE    CROOKED    DISCIPLE.  199 

gymnastics.  They  have  it  in  every  muscle  of  their 
frames ;  their  very  coats  are  buttoned  tight  across  the 
breast  to  express  it ;  and  it  is  exhibited  on  every  possible 
occasion.  In  their  dwellings,  wo  upon  the  tables  and 
chairs — and  they  cannot  see  a  pair  of  parallels  or  cross 
bars  without  experimenting  upon  them. 

At  a  period  when  Grigsby  was  in  the  full  flush  of  his 
gymnastic  powers,  he  returned  from  a  supper  late  at 
night,  with  several  companions.  After  Grigsby  had 
created  much  polite  amusement  by  torturing  several  dogs 
and  sundry  pigs,  they  attempted  a  serenade,  but  they 
were  not  in  voice  ;  and  after  trying  a  cotillion  and  a  ga- 
lopade  in  front  of  the  State  House,  which  were  not  quite 
so  well  executed  as  might  have  been  desired,  they  sepa- 
rated, each  to  his  home — if  he  could  get  there.  Grigsby 
strolled  along  humming  a  tune,  until  his  eye  happen- 
ed to  be  greeted  by  the  welcome  sight  of  an  awning-post. 
He  stopped,  and  regarded  it  for  a  long  time  with  critical 
gravity. 

'«  This  will  answer  famously,"  said  he.  "  Tom  brags 
that  he  can  beat  me  with  his  arms ;  but  I  don't  believe 
it.  Any  how,  his  legs  are  no  great  shakes.  There's  no 
more  muscle  in  them  than  there  is  in  an  unstarched  shirt 
collar ;  and  I  don't  believe,  if  he  was  to  practise  for  ten 
years,  he  could  hang  by  his  toes,  swing  up  and  catch 
hold.  No,  that  he  couldn't ;  I'm  the  boy,  and  I'll  exer- 
cise at  it." 

It  is  however  much  easier  to  resolve  than  to  execute. 
Mr.  Grigsby  found  it  impossible  to  place  himself  in  the 
requisite  antipodean  posture. 

"  Why,  what  the  dense  is  the  matter  ?  All  the  supper 
must  have  settled  down  in  my  toes,  for  my  boots  feel 
heavier  than  fifty-sixes.  My  feet  are  completely  obfus- 
cated, \>hile  my  head  is  as  clear  as  a  bell.  But  '  never 


200  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

despair'  is  the  motto — here's  at  it  once  more,"  continued 
he,  making  another  desperate  but  ineffectual  effort. 

An  individual  with  a  white  hat  and  with  his  hands 
deeply  immersed  in  the  pockets  of  his  shooting  jacket, 
now  advanced  from  the  tree  against  which  he  had  been 
leaning,  while  chuckling  at  the  doings  of  Mr.  Grigsby. 

"  Hay,  whiskers,  what's  the  fun  in  doing  that,  parti- 
cularly when  you  can't  do  it  ?"  said  he. 

"  Can  you  hang  by  your  toes,  stranger  ?  Because  if 
you  can,  you'll  beat  Tom,  in  spite  of  his  bragging." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  can.  The  fact  is,  I  always  try  to 
keep  this  side  up  with  care.  I  never  could  see  the  use  of 
shaking  a  man  up  like  a  bottle  of  physic.  I  can  mix  my- 
self to  my  own  taste  without  that." 

"  You've  no  taste  for  the  fine  arts,  whatever  you  may 
have  for  yourself.  Gymnastics  stir  up  the  sugar  of  a 
man's  constitution,  and  neutralize  the  acids.  Without 
'em,  he's  no  better  than  a  bottle  of  pepper  vinegar — 
nothing  but  sour  punch." 

"  Very  likely,  but  I'll  have  neither  hand  nor  foot  in 
hanging  to  an  awning-post.  If  it  was  like  the  brewer's 
horse  in  Old  Grimes,  and  you  could  drink  up  all  the  beer 
by  turning  your  head  where  your  feet  should  be,  perhaps 
I  might  talk  to  you  about  it." 

Grigsby,  however,  by  dint  of  expatiating  on  the  bene- 
ficial tendency  of  gymnastics,  at  last  prevailed  upon  the 
stranger  to  make  the  attempt. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "let  me  bowse  you  up,  and  if  you 
3an  hang  by  your  toes,  I'll  treat  handsome." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  if  I  do,"  replied  the  stranger 
with  a  grin,  as  he  grasped  the  cross-bar — "  hoist  my 
hee.s  and  look  sharp." 

Jacob  chuckled  as  he  took  the  stranger  by  the  boots 
intending  to  give  him  a  fall  if  possible,  and  to  thrash  him 


THE    CROOKED    DISCIPLE.  201 

if  he  grumbled  ;  but  the  victim's  hold  was  insecure,  and 
he  tumbled  heavily  upon  his  assistant,  both  rolling  on  the 
bricks  together. 

"  Fire  and  tow  !"  ejaculated  Grigsby. 

"  Now  we're  mixed  nicely,"  grunted  the  stranger,  as 
he  scrambled  about.  "  If  any  man  gets  more  legs  and 
arms  than  belong  to  him,  they're  mine.  Hand  over  the 
odd  ones,  and  let's  have  a  complete  set." 

'  This  will  never  do,"  said  Grigsby,  after  they  had 
regained  their  feet,  and  still  intent  on  his  design.  "It 
will  never  do  in  the  world — you're  so  confoundedly 
awkward.  Come,  have  at  it  again  ;  once  more  and  the 
last." 

"  Young  people,"  interposed  a  passing  official,  "  if 
you  keep  a  cutting  didoes,  I  must  talk  to  you  both  like 
a  Dutch  uncle.  Each  of  you  must  disperse ;  I  can't  allow 
no  insurrection  about  the  premises.  If  you  ain't  got  no 
dead-latch  key,  and  the  nigger  won't  set  up,  why  I'll 
take  you  to  the  corporation  free-and-easy,  and  lock  you 
up  till  daylight,  and  we'll  fetch  a  walk  after  breakfast 
to  converse  with  his  honour  on  matters  and  things  in 
general." 

.  "  Very  well,"  answered  Grigsby — "but  now  you've 
made  your  speech,  do  you  think  you  could  hang  by  your 
toes  to  that  post?" 

"  Pooh  !  pooh  !  don't  be  redikalis.  When  matters  is 
solemn,  treat  'em  solemn." 

"  Why,  I  ain't  redikalis — we're  at  work  on  science. 
I'm  pretty  well  scienced  myself,  and  I  want  to  get 
more  so." 

"  Instead  of  talking,  you'd  better  paddle  up  street  like 
a  white-head.  Go  home  to  sleep  like  your  crony — see 
how  he  shins  it." 

"  I  will,"  said  Grigsby,  who  likes  a  joke  occasionally, 


202  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

and  is  very  good  humoured  when  it  is  not  safe  to  be 
otherwise — "  I  will,  if  you'll  tell  me  what's  the  use.  In 
the  first  place,  home's  a  fool  to  this — and  as  for  sleeping, 
it's  neither  useful  nor  ornamental." 

"  Do  go,  that's  a  good  boy — I  don't  want  to  chaw  you 
right  up,  but  I  must  if  you  stay." 

"  I  snore  when  I'm  asleep — and  when  I  do,  Tom 
puts  his  foot  out  of  bed  till  it's  cold,  and  then  claps  it  to 
my  back.  He  calls  it  firing  me  off  on  the  cold  pressure 
principle." 

"  What  a  cruel  Tom  !  But  why  don't  you  keep  your 
mouth  shut  ?  You  should  never  wear  it  open  when  you're 


"  If  I  did,  my  dreams  would  get  smothered.  Besides, 
I  like  to  look  down  my  throat,  to  see  what  I'm  thinking 
about." 

"  Don't  quiz  me,  young  man.     Some  things  is  easy  to 
put  up  with,  and  some  things  isn't  easy  to  put  up  with ; 
and  quizzing  a  dignittery  is  one  of  the  last.     If  there  is 
any  thing  I  stands  upon,  it's  dignitty." 
"  Dignitty  made  of  pipe-stems,  isn't  it  ?" 
"  My  legs  is  pretty  legs.     They  ain't  so  expressive  as 
some  what's  made  coarser  and  cheaper ;  but  they're  slim 
and  genteel.     But  legs  are  neither  here  nor  there.     You 
must  go  home,  sonny,  or  go  with  me." 

"  Well,  as  I'm  rather  select  in  my  associations,  and 
never  did  admire  sleeping  thicker  than  six  in  a  bed  at  the 
outside,  I'll  go  home,  put  a  woollen  stocking  on  Tom's 
foot,  and  take  a  pint  of  sleep  :  I  never  try  more,  for  my 
constitution  won't  stand  it.  But  to-morrow  I'll  swing  by 
uiy  toes,  I  promise  you." 

"  Go,  then.     Less  palaver  and  more  tortle." 

"  Tortelons  nous — good  night ;  I'm  off  to  my  lit.11 

The  censor  morum  wrapping  himself  in  his  const;- 


THE    CROOKED    DISCIPLE.  203 

quence,  paused,  looked  grave  until  Grigsby  turned  the 
corner,  and  then,  relaxing  his  dignitfy,  laughed  creak- 
ingly,  like  a  rusty  door. 

"  Hee  !  hee  !  hee  ! — that's  a  real  fine  feller.  He's  too 
good  for  his  own  good — makes  something  of  a  fuss  every 
night — always  funny  or  fighting,  and  never  pays  his  debts. 
Hee!  hee!  hee!  a  real  gentleman — gives  me  half  a  dol- 
lar a  New  Year's — a  real — past  two  o'clock  and  a  cloudy 
morning  ! — sort  of  a  gentleman,  and  encourages  our  busi- 
ness like  an  emperor,  only  I  haven't  got  the  heart  to  take 
advantage  of  it." 

*  #  *  *  * 

Jacob  Grigsby  moved  homeward,  his  temper  souring  as 
he  proceeded  and  as  the  pleasant  excitement  of  the  even- 
ing began  to  wear  off.  Some  people,  by  the  way,  are 
always  good  humoured  abroad,  and  reserve  their  savage 
traits  for  home  consumption.  Of  this  class  is  Grigsby. 

Where  he  boards,  the  rule  is  to  stow  thick — three  in  a 
bed  when  the  weather  is  warm,  and,  in  the  colder  season, 
by  way  of  saving  blankets,  four  in  a  bed  is  the  rule 
Now,  even  three  in  a  bed  is  by  no  means  a  pleasant 
arrangement  at  the  best,  when  the  parties  are  docile  in 
their  slumbers,  and  lie  "  spoon  fashion,"  all  facing  the 
same  way,  and  it  is  terrible  if  one  of  the  triad  be  of  an 
uneasy  disposition.  Grigsby's  "  pardeners,"  however, 
are  quiet  lads,  and  there  is  an  understanding  among  the 
three  that  turn  about  shall  be  the  law  in  regard  to  the 
middle  place,  which  therefore  falls  to  his  share  every  third 
week — one  week  in,  and  two  weeks  out — the  soft  never 
to  be  monopolized  by  any  one  individual,  and  nobody  to 
turn  round  more  than  once  in  the  course  of  the  night. 
Grigsby  is  borne  down  by  the  majority  ;  but  when  it  is  his 
week  in,  he  is  worse  than  the  armed  rhinoceros  or  the 
Hyrcan  tiger,  so  ferocious  are  his  ebullitions  of  wrath. 


204  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

It  happened  to  be  his  week  "  in,"  the  thought  whereof 
moved  his  ire,  and  he  ascended  the  stairs  with  the 
energetic  tread  of  an  ox,  set  fire  to  the  cat's  tail  with  the 
candle,  and  poked  a  long  nine  down  Carlo's  throat. 

"  Ha  !"  said  Jacob,  as  he  kicked  open  the  door,  sur- 
veyed his  sleeping  bedfellows,  and  flashed  the  light  in 
their  eyes — "  mighty  comfortable  that,  anyhow  ;  but  I'll 
soon  spoil  it,  or  I'm  not  a  true  Grigsby." 

He  put  out  the  light,  and  in  full  dress — boots,  hat. 
great  coat,  body  coat,  and  pantaloons — muddy  as  he  was, 
scrambled  over  the  bed  two  or  three  times,  until  he  es- 
tablished himself  in  the  central  station  between  his  co 
mates.  He  rolled  and  he  tossed,  he  kicked  and  he  groaned, 
until  the  whole  concern  were  as  wide  awake  as  himself. 

"  Why,  Jacob,  you've  got  your  boots  on,"  said  they. 

"  The  fact  is,  fellows,  the  cold  in  my  head  is  getting 
worse,  and  sleeping  in  boots  draws  down  the  inflamma- 
tion. It's  a  certain  cure." 

"  But  you  don't  intend  sleeping  with  your  hat  on  your 
head,  do  you  ?" 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  I've  got  holes  in  my  stockings  ?  If 
I  don't  keep  my  hat  on,  I'll  be  sure  to  have  the  rheuma 
tism  in  my  big  toe." 

"  Well,  we  won't  stand  it,  no  how  it  can  be  fixed." 

"  Just  as  you  like — go  somewhere  else — I've  no  ob 
jection.  I'm  amazing  comfortable." 

"  Why,  thunder  and  fury  !"  said  one,  jerking  up  his 
leg,  "your  boots  are  covered  with  mud." 

"  That  are  a  fact — you've  no  idea  how  muddy  the 
streets  are — I'm  all  over  mud — I  wish  you'd  blow  up  the 
corporation.  But  hang  it,  give  us  a  fip's  worth  of  sheet 
and  a  'levy  s  worth  of  blanket.  That's  the  way  I  like 
'em  mixed— some  lean  and  a  good  deal  of  fat." 

So  saying,  Jacob  wound  himself  up  in  the  bed-clothes 


THE    CROOKED    DISCIPLE.  205 

with  a  prodigious  flounder,  denuding  his  companions 
'entirely. 

Grigsby's  co-mates  however,  knowing  that  "  who 
would  be  free,  themselves  must  strike  the  blow,"  declared 
war  against  the  manifold  outrages  of  their  oppressor, 
and,  notwithstanding  his  gymnastic  powers,  succeeded  in 
obtaining  the  mastery.  Much  enraged,  they  resolved 
upon  carrying  him  down  stairs  and  placing  him  under 
the  hydrant  as  a  punishment  for  his  violations  of  the 
social  compact,  and  were  proceeding  to  put  their  de- 
termination in  force,  when  Bobolink  and  the  rest  of  the 
boarders,  alarmed  at  the  noise,  popped  out  of  their  cham- 
bers. 

"What's  the  fraction — vulgar  or  decimal  ?"  said  Bobo- 
link. 

"Vengeance!"  panted  Grigsby — "revenge!  I'm  in- 
sulted— let  me  go  !" 

The  cause  of  quarrel  was  explained — all  cried  shame 
upon  Mr.  Jacob  Grigsby,  and  Mr.  Bobolink  constituted 
nimself  judge  on  the  occasion. 

"  They  kicked  me  !"  roared  the  prisoner. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Bobolink,  "  but  as  they  hadn't  their 
boots  on,  it  wasn't  downright  Mayor's  court  assault  and 
battery — only  an  insult  with  intent  to  hurt — assault  and 
battery  in  the  second  degree — a  species  of  accidental 
homicide.  Perhaps  you  were  going  down  stairs,  and  tney 
walked  too  quick  after  you — toeing  it  swift,  and  'most 
walked  into  you.  What  was  it  for  ?" 

"  Look  ye,"  said  Grigsby — "  it's  very  late — yes,  it's 
nearly  morning,  and  I  didn't  take  time  to  fix  myself  for 
a  regular  sleep,  so  I  turned  in  like  a  trooper's  horse,  and 
that's  the  whole  matter." 

"  Like  a  trooper's  horse — how's  that?" 

"  I'll  explain,"  said  one  of  the  spectators — "  to  turn 


206  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

in  like  a  troopers  horse  is  to  go  to  bed  all  standing, 
ready  for  a  sudden  call — parade  order — winter  uniform- 
full  dress — a  very  good  fashion  when  you've  been  out  to 
supper — convenient  in  case  of  fire,  and  saves  a  deal  of 
trouble  in  the  morning  when  you're  late  for  breakfast." 

"  Well,  I  never  heard  tell  of  the  likes  on  the  part  of  a 
white  man.  They  served  you  right,  and  my  judgment  is, 
as  you  won't  be  quiet,  that  you  be  shut  in  the  back-cellar 
till  breakfast  time.  I'm  not  going  to  have  any  more  row. 
If  you  don't  like  it,  you  can  appeal  afterwards." 

"  Never  heerd  the  likes !"  said  Jacob  contemptu 
ously  ;  "  ain't  abed  a  bed — ain't  my  share  of  it,  my  share 
of  it  ? — and  where's  the  law  that  lays  down  what  sort  of 
clothes  a  man  must  sleep  in  ?  I'll  wear  a  porcupine  jacket, 
and  sleep  in  it  too,  if  I  like — yes,  spurs,  and  a  trumpet, 
and  a  spanner." 

"  Put  him  in  the  cellar,"  was  the  reply,  and  in  spite 
of  his  struggles  the  sentence  was  laughingly  enforced. 

"  Bobolink,  let's  out,  or  I'll  burst  the  door — let's  out— 
I  want  vengeance  !" 

"  Keep  yourself  easy — you  can't  have  any  vengeance 
till  morning.  Perhaps  they'll  wrap  some  in  a  bit  of  paper, 
and  keep  it  for  you." 

But  in  the  morning  Grigsby  disappeared,  and  returned 


(207  ) 


FYDGET  FYXINGTON. 


THE  illustrious  Pangloss,  who  taught  the  metapby- 
sico-theologo-cosmolo-nigology  at  the  Westphalian  cha- 
teau of  the  puissant  Baron  Thundertentronckh,  held  it 
as  a  cardinal  maxim  of  his  philosophy,  que  tout  est 
au  mieux ;  that  "it's  all  for  the  best."  Pfngloss 
was  therefore  what  is  called  an  optimist,  and  discontent — 
to  use  the  favourite  word  of  the  slang-whangers — was 
repudiated  by  him  and  his  followers.  This  doctrine, 
however,  though  cherished  in  the  abstract,  is  but  little 
practised  out  of  the  domain  of  Thundertentronckh.  The 
world  is  much  more  addicted  to  its  opposite.  "  All's  for 
the  worst"  is  a  very  common  motto,  and  under  its  influ- 
ence there  are  thousands  who  growl  when  they  go  to  bed, 
and  growl  still  louder  when  they  get  up  ;  they  growl  at 
their  breakfast,  they  growl  at  their  dinner,  they  growl  at 
their  supper,  and  they  growl  between  meals.  Discontent 
is  written  in  every  feature  of  their  visage  ;  and  they  go 
on  from  the  beginning  of  life  until  its  close,  always  growl- 
ing, in  the  hope  of  making  things  better  by  scaring  them 
into  it  with  ugly  noises.  These  be  your  passive  grum- 
bletonians.  When  the  castle  was  on  fire,  Sir  Abel  Handy 
stood  wringing  his  hands,  in  expectation  that  the  fire 
would  be  civil  enough  to  go  out  of  itself.  So  is  it  with 
the  passive.  He  would  utter  divers  maledictions  upon 
the  heat,  but  would  sit  still  to  see  if  the  flarne  could  nol 
be  scolded  into  going  out  of  itself. 
14 


208  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

The  active  grumbletonians,  however,  though  equally 
opposed  in  practice  to  the  metaphysico-theologo-cos- 
molo-nigology,  are  a  very  different  race  of  mortals  from 
the  passives.  The  world  is  largely  indebted  to  them  for 
every  comfort  and  convenience  with  which  it  abounds  ; 
and  they  laugh  at  the  inquiry  whether  their  exertions 
have  conduced  to  the  general  happiness,  holding  it  tha* 
happiness  consists  chiefly  in  exertion — to  which  the  pas- 
sives demur,  as  they  look  back  with  no  little  regret  to 
the  lazy  days  of  pastoral  life,  when  Chaldean  shepherds 
lounged  upon  the  grass.  The  actives  are  very  much 
inclined  to  believe  that  whatever  is,  is  wrong ;  bu1 
then  they  have  as  an  offset,  the  comfortable  conviction 
that  they  are  able  to  set  it  right — an  opinion  which  fire 
cannot  melt  out  of  them.  These  restless  fellows  are  in 
a  vast  majority ;  and  hence  it  is  that  the  surface  of  this 
earthly  sphere  is  such  a  scene  of  activity  ;  hence  it  is  that 
for  so  many  thousand  years,  the  greater  part  of  each 
generation  has  been  unceasingly  employed  in  labour  and 
bustle  ;  rushing  from  place  to  place  ;  hammering,  sawing, 
and  driving  ;  hewing  down  and  piling  up  mountains  ;  and 
unappalled,  meeting  disease  and  death,  both  by  sea  and 
land.  To  expedite  the  process  of  putting  things  to  rights, 
likewise,  hence  it  is  that  whole  hecatombs  of  men  have 
been  slaughtered  on  the  embattled  field,  and  that  the  cord, 
the  fagot,  and  the  steel  have  been  in  such  frequent  de 
mand.  Sections  of  the  active  grumble  ton  ians  sometimes 
differ  about  the  means  of  making  the  world  a  more  com- 
fortable place,  and  time  being  short,  the  labour-saving 
process  is  adopted.  The  weaker  party  is  knocked  on 
the  head.  It  saves  an  incalculable  deal  of  argument,  and 
answers  pretty  nearly  the  same  end»_ 

But  yet,  though  the  world  is  many  years  old,  and 
the  "  fixing  process"  has  been  going  on  ever  sincf,  it 


FTDGET    FYXINGTON.  209 

emerged  from  chaos,  it  seems  that  much  remains  undone, 
with  less  time  to  do  it  in.  The  actives  consequently 
redouble  their  activity.  They  have  called  in  the  aid  of 
gunpowder  and  steam,  and  in  this  goodly  nineteenth  cen- 
tury are  kicking  up  such  a  terrible  dust,  and  are  setting 
things  to  rights  at  such  a  rate,  that  the  passives  have  no 
comfort  of  their  lives.  Where  they  herd  in  nations,  as  in 
Mexico,  the  actives  cluster  on  their  borders  and  set  things 
to  rights  with  the  rifle  ;  and  when  they  are  solitary  amid 
the  crowd,  as  among  us,  they  are  fretted  to  fiddlestrings, 
like  plodding  shaft  horses  with  unruly  leaders.  They  are 
environed  with  perils.  In  one  quarter,  hundreds  of 
stately  mansions  are  brought  thundering  to  the  ground, 
because  the  last  generation  put  things  to  rights  in  the 
wrong  way,  and  in  another  quarter,  thousands  are  going 
up  on  the  true  principle.  Between  them  both,  the  pas- 
sive is  kept  in  a  constant  state  of  solicitude,  and  threads 
his  way  through  piles  of  rubbish,  wearing  his  head  askew 
like  a  listening  chicken,  looking  above  with  one  eye,  to 
watch  what  may  fall  on  him,  and  looking  below  with  the 
other,  to  see  what  he  may  fall  upon.  Should  he  travel,  he  is 
placed  in  a  patent  exploding  steamboat,  warranted  to  boil 
a  gentleman  cold  in  less  than  no  time ;  or  he  is  tied  to  the 
tail  of  a  big  steam  kettle,  termed  a  locomotive,  which 
goes  sixty  miles  an  hour  horizontally,  or  if  it  should  meet 
impediment,  a  mile  in  half  a  second  perpendicularly. 
Should  he  die,  as  many  do,  of  fixo-phobia,  and  seek  peexe 
under  the  sod,  the  spirit  of  the  age  soon  grasps  the  spade 
and  has  him  out  to  make  way  for  improvement. 

The  passive  grumbletonian  is  useless  to  himself  and 
to  others  :  the  active  grumbletonian  is  just  the  reverse. 
In  general,  he  combines  individual  advancement  with 
public  prosperity  ;  but  there  are  exceptions  even  in  that 
class — men,  who  try  to  take  so  much  care  of  the  world 
144 


210  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

that  they  lorget  themselves,  and,  of  course,  fail  in  their 
intent. 

Such  a  man  is  Fydget  Fyxington,  an  amelioration- 
of-  the  -  human-  race-by-starting-f  rom-first-principles-philo- 
sopher.  Fydget's  abstract  principle,  particularly  in 
matters  of  government  and  of  morals,  is  doubtless  a 
sound  rule ;  but  he  looks  so  much  at  the  beginning 
that  he  rarely  arrives  at  the  end,  and  when  he  advances 
at  all,  he  marches  backward,  his  face  being  directed  to- 
ward the  starting  place  instead  of  the  goal.  By  this 
means  he  may  perhaps  plough  a  straight  furrow,  but  in- 
stead of  curving  round  obstructions,  he  is  very  apt  to  be 
thrown  down  by  them. 

Like  most  philosophers  who  entertain  a  creed  opposed 
to  that  of  the  illustrious  Pangloss,  Fydget  may  be  fitly 
designated  as  the  fleshless  one.  He  never  knew  the  joy 
of  being  fat,  and  is  one  of  those  who  may  console  them- 
selves with  the  belief  that  the  physical  sharpness  which 
renders  them  a  walking  chevaux  de  frise,  and  as  danger- 
ous to  embrace  as  a  porcupine,  is  but  an  outward  emblem 
of  the  acuteness  of  the  mind.  Should  he  be  thrust  in  a 
crowd  against  a  sulky  fellow  better  in  flesh  than  himself, 
who  complains  of  the  pointedness  of  his  attentions,  Fyd- 
get may  reflect  that  even  so  do  his  reasoning  faculties 
bore  into  a  subject.  When  gazing  in  a  mirror,  should 
his  eye  be  offended  by  the  view  of  lantern  jaws,  and 
channelled  cheeks,  and  bones  prematurely  labouring  to 
escape  from  their  cuticular  tabernacle,  he  may  easily 
figure  to  himself  the  restless  energy  of  his  spirit,  which 
like  a  keen  blade,  weareth  away  the  scabbard — he  may 
look  upon  himself  as  an  intellectual  "  cut  and  thrust" — a 
thinking  chopper  and  slabber.  But  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  Fydget  ever  reverts  to  considerations  so  purely 
selfish,  except  when  he  finds  that  the  "fine  points"  of 


FYDGET    FYXINGTON.  211 

his  figure  are  decidedly  injurious  to  wearing  apparel  and 
tear  his  clothes. 

*  *  *  *  #  * 

Winter  ruled  the  hour  when  Fydget  Fyxington  was 
last  observed  to  be  in  circulation — winter,  when  men 
wear  their  hands  in  their  pockets  and  seldom  straighten 
their  backs — a  season  however,  which,  though  sharp  and 
biting  in  its  temper,  has  redeeming  traits.  There  is  some- 
thing peculiarly  exhilarating  in  the  sight  of  new-fallen 
snow.  The  storm  which  brings  it  is  not  without  a  charm. 
The  graceful  eddying  of  the  drifts  sported  with  by  the 
wind,  and  the  silent  gliding  of  the  feathery  flakes,  as  one 
by  one  they  settle  upon  the  earth  like  fairy  creatures 
dropping  to  repose,  have  a  soothing  influence  not  easily 
described,  though  doubtless  felt  by  all.  But  when  the 
clouds,  having  performed  their  office,  roll  away,  and  the 
brightness  of  the  morning  sun  beams  upon  an  expanse 
of  sparkling,  unsullied  whiteness  ;  when  all  that  is  com- 
mon-place, coarse,  and  unpleasant  in  aspect,  is  veiled  for 
the  time,  and  made  to  wear  a  fresh  and  dazzling  garb, 
new  animation  is  felt  by  the  spirit.  The  young  grow 
riotous  with  joy,  and  their  merry  voices  ring  like  bells 
through  the  clear  and  bracing  air ;  while  the  remem- 
brance of  earlier  days  gives  a  youthful  impulse  to  the 
aged  heart. 

But  to  all  this  there  is  a  sad  reverse.  The  resolution 
of  these  enchantments  into  their  original  elements  by 
means  of  a  thaw,  is  a  necessaryTbut,  it  must  be  confessed, 
a  very  doleful  process,  fruitful  in  gloom,  rheum,  inflam- 
mations, and  fevers — a  process  which  gives  additional 
pangs  to  the  melancholic,  and  causes  valour's  self  to 
droop  like  unstarched  muslin.  The  voices  of  the  boys 
are  hushed ;  the  wluzzing  snow-ball  astonishes  the  un- 
suspicious wayfarer  no  more  ;  the  window  glass  is  pet 


212  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

mitted  to  live  its  brief  day,  safe  from  an  untimely  frac- 
ture, and  the  dejected  urchin  sneaks  moodily  from  school. 
So  changed  is  his  nature,  that  he  scarcely  bestows  a  de- 
risive grin  upon  the  forlorn  sleigh,  which  ploughs  its 
course  through  mud  and  water,  although  its  driver  and 
his  passengers  invite  the  jeer  by  making  themselves  small 
to  avoid  it,  and  tempt  a  joke  by  oblique  glances  to  see 
whether  it  is  coming. 

Such  a  time  was  it  when  Fydget  was  extant — a  sloppy 
time  in  January.  The  city,  it  is  true,  was  clothed  in 
snow ;  but  it  was  melancholy  snow,  rusty  and  forlorn 
in  aspect,  and  weeping,  as  if  in  sorrow  that  its  original 
purity  had  become  soiled,  stained,  and  spotted  by  contact 
with  the  world.  Its  whiteness  had  in  a  measure  disap 
peared,  by  the  pressure  of  human  footsteps  ;  wheels  and 
runners  had  almost  incorporated  it  with  the  common 
earth ;  and,  where  these  had  failed  in  effectually  doing 
the  work,  remorseless  distributers  of  ashes,  coal  dust, 
and  potato  peelings,  had  lent  their  aid  to  give  uniformity 
to  the  dingy  hue.  But  the  snow,  "  weeping  its  spirit 
from  its  eyes,"  and  its  body  too,  was  fast  escaping  from 
these  multiplied  oppressions  and  contumelies.  Large 
and  heavy  drops  splashed  from  the  eaves ;  sluggish  streams 
rolled  lazily  from  the  alleys,  and  the  gutters  and  cross- 
ings formed  vast  shallow  lakes,  variegated  by  glaciers 
and  ice  islands.  They  who  roamed  abroad  at  this  un- 
propitious  time,  could  be  heard  approaching  by  the  damp 
sucking  sound  which  enflnated  from  their  boots,  as  they 
alternately  pumped  in  and  pumped  out  the  water  in  their 
progress,  and  it  was  thus  that  our  hero  travelled,  having 
no  caoutchouc  health-preservers  to  shield  his  pedals  from 
unwholesome  contact. 

The  shades  of  evening  were  beginning  to  thicken,  when 
Fydget  stopped  shiveringly  and  looked  through  the  glass 


FYDGET    FYXINGTON.  213 

door  of  a  fashionable  hotel — the  blazing  fire  and  the 
numerous  lights,  by  the  force  of  contrast,  made  an  out- 
side seat  still  more  uncomfortable. 

The  gong  pealed  out  that  tea  was  ready,  and  the 
lodgers  rushed  from  the  stoves  to  comfort  themselves 
with  that  exhilarating  fluid.  -^  •" 

"  There  they  go  on  first  principles,"  said  Fydget  Fyx- 
ington  with  a  sigh. 

"  Cla'  de  kitchen  da',"  said  one  of  those  ultra-aristo- 
cratic members  of  society,  a  negro  waiter,  as  he  bustled 
past  the  contemplative  philosopher  and  entered  the  hotel 
— "  you  ought  to  be  gwang  home  to  suppa',  ole  soul,  if 
you  got  some — yaugh — waugh  !" 

"  Suppa',  you  nigga' !"  contemptuously  responded 
Fydget,  as  the  door  closed — "  I  wish  I  was  gwang  home 
to  suppa',  but  suppers  are  a  sort  of  thing  I  remember  a. 
good  deal  oftener  than  I  see.  Every  thing  is  wrong — • 
such  a  wandering  from  first  principles  ! — there  must  be 
enough  in  this  world  for  us  all,  or  we  wouldn't  be  here  ; 
but  things  is  fixed  so  badly  that  I  s'pose  some  greedy 
rascal  gets  my  share  of  suppa'  and  other  such  elegant 
luxuries.  It's  just  the  way  of  the  world  ;  there's  plenty 
of  shares  of  every  thing,  but  somehow  or  other  there  are 
folks  that  lay  their  fingers  on  two  or  three  shares,  and 
sometimes  more,  according  as  they  get  a  chance,  and  the 
real  owners,  like  me,  may  go  whistle.  They've  fixed  it 
so  that  if  you  go  back  to  first  principles  and  try  to  bone 
what  belongs  to  you,  they  pack  you  right  off  to  jail, 
'cause  you  can't  prove  property.  Empty  stummicks  and 
old  clothes  ain't  good  evidence  in  court. 

"  What  the  deuse  is  to  become  of  me  !  Something 
must — and  I  wish  it  would  be  quick  and  hurra  about  it. 
My  clothes  are  getting  to  be  too  much  of  the  summer- 
house  order  for  the  winter  fashions.  People  will  soon 


214  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

see  too  much  of  me — not  that  I  care  much  about  looks 
myself,  but  boys  is  boys,  and  all  boys  is  sassy.  Since 
the  weather's  been  chilly,  when  I  turn  the  corner  to  go 
up  town,  I  feel  as  if  the  house  had  too  many  windows 
and  doors,  and  I'm  almost  blow'd  out  of  my  coat  and 
pants.  The  fact  is,  I  don't  get  enough  to  eat  to  serve  for 
ballast." 

After  a  melancholy  pause,  Fydget,  seeing  the  coast 
tolerably  clear,  walked  in  to  warm  himself  at  the  fire 
in  the  bar-room,  near  which  he  stood  with  great  com- 
posure, at  the  same  time  emptying  several  glasses  of 
comfortable  compounds  which  had  been  left  partly  filled 
by  the  lodgers  when  they  hurried  to  their  tea.  Lighting  a 
cigar  which  he  found  half  smoked  upon  the  ledge  of 
the  stove,  he  seated  himself  and  puffed  away  much  at  his 
ease. 

The  inmates  of  the  hotel  began  to  return  to  the  room, 
glancing  suspiciously  at  Fydget's  tattered  integuments, 
and  drawing  their  chairs  away  from  him  as  they  sat 
down  near  the  stove.  Fydget  looked  unconscious,  emit- 
ting volumes  of  smoke,  and  knocking  off  the  ashes  with 
a  nonchalant  and  scientific  air. 

"  Bad  weather,"  said  Brown 

"  I've  noticed  that  the  weather  is  frequently  bad  in 
winter,  especially  about  the  middle  of  it,  and  at  both 
ends,"  added  Green.  "  I  keep  a  memorandum  book  on 
the  subject,  and  can't  be  mistaken." 

"  It's  raining  now,"  said  GriffinhofF — "  what's  the  use 
of  that  when  it's  so  wet  under  foot  already  ?" 

"It  very  frequently  rains  at  the  close  of  a  thaw, 
and  it's  beneficial  to  the  umbrella  makers."  responded 
Green. 

"  Nothin's  fixed  no  how,"  said  Fydget  with  great 
energy,  for  he  was  tired  of  listening. 


FYDGET    FYXINOTON.  .15 

Hrown,  Green,  Griffinhoff,  and  the  rest  started  and 
stared. 

"  Nothin's  fixed  no  how,"  continued  Fydget  rejoicing 
in  the  fact  of  having  hearers — "  our  grand-dads  must  a 
been  lazy  rascals.  Why  didn't  they  roof  over  the  side 
walks,  and  not  leave  every  thing  for  us  to  do?  I  ain't  got 
no  numbrell,  and  besides  that,  when  it  comes  down  as  if 
raining  was  no  name  for  it,  as  it  always  does  when  I'm 
cotch'd  out,  numbrells  is  no  great  shakes  if  you've  got 
one  with  you,  and  no  shakes  at  all  if  it's  at  home." 

"  Who's  the  indevidjual  ?"  inquired  Cameo  Calliper, 
Esq.,  looking  at  Fydget  through  a  pair  of  lorgnettes. 

Fydget  returned  the  glance  by  making  an  opera  glass 
with  each  fist,  and  then  continued  his  remarks  :  "  It's  a 
pity  we  ain't  got  feathers,  so's  to  grow  our  own  jacket 
and  trousers,  and  do  up  the  tailorin'  business,  and  make 
our  own  feather  beds.  It  would  be  a  great  savin' — every 
man  his  own  clothes,  and  every  man  his  own  featherbed. 
Now  I've  got  a  suggestion  about  that — first  principles 
bring  us  to  the  skin — fortify  that,  and  the  matter's  done. 
How  would  it  do  to  bile  a  big  kittle  full  of  tar,  tallow, 
beeswax  and  injen  rubber,  with  considerable  wool,  and 
dab  the  whole  family  once  a  week  ?  The  young  'uns 
might  be  soused  in  it  every  Saturday  night,  and  the  nig- 
ger might  fix  the  elderly  folks  with  a  whitewash  brush. 
Then  there  wouldn't  be  no  bother  a  washing  your  clothes 
or  yourself,  which  last  is  an  invention  of  the  doctor  to 
make  people  sick,  because  it  lets  in  the  cold  in  winter  and 
the  heat  in  summer,  when  natur'  says  shut  up  the  po- 
rouses  and  keep  'em  out.  Besides,  when  the  new  inven- 
tion was  tore  at  the  knees  or  wore  at  the  elbows,  just  tell 
the  nigger  to  put  on  the  kittle  and  give  you  a  dab,  and 
you  re  patched  slick — and  so  that  whole  mobs  of  people 
mightn't  stick  together  like  figs,  a  little  sperrits  of  turpen- 


216  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

tine  or  litharage  might  be  added  to  make  'em  dry  like  a 
house-a-fire." 

"  If  that  fellow  don't  go  away,  I'll  hurt  him,"  said 
Griffinhoff  sotto  voce. 

"  Where's  a  waiter  ?"  inquired  Cameo  Calliper  edging 
off  in  alarm. 

"  He's  crazy,"  said  Green — "  I  was  at  the  hospital 
once,  and  there  was  a  man  in  the  place  who — " 

"  'Twould  be  nice  for  sojers,"  added  Fyxington,  as 
he  threw  away  his  stump,  and  very  deliberately  reached 
over  and  helped  himself  to  a  fresh  cigar,  from  a  number 
which  Mr.  Green  had  just  brought  from  the  bar  and  held 
in  his  hand — "  I'll  trouble  you  for  a  little  of  your  fire,'' 
continued  he,  taking  the  cigar  from  the  mouth  of  Mr. 
Green,  and  after  obtaining  a  light,  again  placing  the 
borrowed  Habana  within  the  lips  of  that  worthy  indivi- 
dual, who  sat  stupified  at  the  audacity  of  the  supposed 
maniac.  Fydget  gave  the  conventional  grin  of  thanks 
peculiar  to  such  occasions,  and  with  a  graceful  wave  of  his 
hand,  resumed  the  thread  of  his  lecture, — "  'Twould  be 
nice  for  sojers.  Stand  'em  all  of  a  row,  and  whitewash 
'em  blue  or  red,  according  to  pattern,  as  if  they  were  a 
fence.  The  gin'rals  might  look  on  to  see  if  it  was  done 
according  to  Gunter ;  the  cap'ins  might  flourish  the  brush, 
and  the  corpulars  carry  the  bucket.  Dandies  could  fix 
themselves  all  sorts  of  streaked  and  all  sorts  of  colours. 
When  the  parterials  is  cheap  and  the  making  don't  cost 
nothing,  that's  what  I  call  economy,  and  coming  as 
near  as  possible  to  first  principles.  It's  a  better  way, 
too,  of  keeping  out  the  rain,  than  my  t'other  plan 
of  flogging  people  when  they're  young,  to  make  their 
hides  hard  and  waterproof.  A  good  licking  is  a  sound 
first  principle  for  juveniles,  but  they've  got  a  prejudice 
agin  it." 


FYDGET    FYXINOTON.  217 

••  Waiter !"  cried  Cameo  Calliper. 

"  Sa !" 

"  Remove  the  incumbent — expose  him  to  the  atmo- 
sphere !" 

"  If  you  hadn't  said  that,  I'd  wopped  him,"  observed 
Griffinhoff. 

"  Accordin'  to  first  principles,  I've  as  good  a  right  to 
be  here  as  any  body,"  remarked  Fydget  indignantly. 

"  Cut  you'  stick,  'cumbent — take  you'sef  off,  trash  !" 
said  the  waiter,  keeping  at  a  respectful  distance. 

"  Don't  come  near  me,  Sip,"  growled  Fydget,  dou 
bling  his  fist — "  don't  come  near  me,  or  I'll  develope  a 
first  principle  and  'lucidate  a  simple  idea  for  you — I'll 
give  you  a  touch  of  natur'  without  no  gloves  on — but  I'll 
not  stay,  though  I've  a  clear  right  to  do  it,  unless  you  are 
able — yes,  sassy  able  ! — to  put  me  out.  If  there  is 
any  thing  I  scorns  it's  prejudice,  and  this  room's  so 
full  of  it  and  smoke  together  that  I  won't  stay.  Your 
cigar,  sir,"  added  Fydget,  tossing  the  stump  to  Mr. 
Green  and  retiring  slowly. 

"  That  fellow's  brazen  enough  to  collect  militia  fines," 
said  Brown,  "  and  so  thin  and  bony,  that  if  pasted  over 
with  white  paper  and  rigged  athwart  ships,  he'd  make  a 
pretty  good  sign  for  an  oyster  cellar." 

The  rest  of  the  company  laughed  nervously,  as  if  not 
perfectly  sure  that  Fydget  was  out  of  hearing. 

****** 

"  The  world's  full  of  it — >nothin'  but  prejudice.  I'm 
always  served  the  same  way,  and  though  I've  so  much  to 
do  planning  the  world's  good,  I  can't  attend  to  my  own 
business,  it  not  only  won't  support  me,  but  it  treats  me 
with  despise  and  unbecoming  freedery.  Now,  I  was  used 
sinful  about  my  universal  language,  which  every  oody 
can  understand,  which  makes  no  noise,  and  which  cum  t 


«I8  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

convolve  no  wear  and  tear  of  the  tongue.  It's  the  patent 
anti-fatigue-anti-consumption  omnibus  linguister,  to  be 
done  by  winking  and  blinking,  and  cocking  your  eye,  the 
way  the  cat-fishes  make  Fourth  of  July  orations.  I  was 
going  to  have  it  introduced  in  Congress,  to  save  the  ex- 
pense of  anchovies  and  more  porter  ;  but  t'other  day  I 
tried  it  on  a  feller  in  the  street ;  I  danced  right  up  to  him, 
and  began  canoeuvering  my  daylights  to  ask  him  what 
o'clock  it  was,  and  I'm  blow'd  if  he  didn't  swear  I  was 
crazy,  up  fist  and  stop  debate,  by  putting  it  to  me  right 
atween  the  eyes,  so  that  I've  been  pretty  well  bung'd  up 
about  the  peepers  ever  since,  by  a  feller  too  who  couldn't 
understand  a  simple  idea.  That  was  worse  than  the  kick 
a  feller  gave  me  in  market,  because  'cording  to  first  princi- 
ples I  put  a  bullowney  sassinger  into  my  pocket,  and 
didn't  pay  for  it.  The  'riginal  law,  which  you  may  see 
in  children,  says  when  you  ain't  got  no  money,  the  next 
best  thing  is  to  grab  and  run.  I  did  grab  and  run, 
but  he  grabb'd  me,  and  I  had  to  trot  back  agin,  which 
always  hurts  my  feelin's  and  stops  the  march  of  mind. 
He  wouldn't  hear  me  'lucidate  the  simple  idea,  and  the 
way  he  hauled  out  the  sassinger,  and  lent  me  the  loan 
of  his  foot,  was  werry  sewere.  It  was  unsatisfactory  and 
discombobberative,  and  made  me  wish  I  could  find  out 
the  hurtin'  principle  and  have  it  'radicated." 

Carriages  were  driving  up  to  the  door  of  a  house  bril 
liantly  illuminated,  in  one  of  the  fashionable  streets,  and 
the  music  which  pealed  from  within  intimated  that  the 
merry  dance  was  on  foot. 

"  I'm  goin'  in,"  said  Fydget — "  I'm  not  afeard — if  we 
go  on  first  principles  we  ain't  afeard  of  nothin',  and  since 
they've  monopolized  my  sheer  of  fun,  they  can't  do  less 
than  give  me  a  shinplaster  to  go  away.  My  jacket's  so 
wet  with  the  rain,  if  I  don't  get  dry  I'll  be  sewed  up  ana 


FYDGET    FYXINGTON  219 

have  hie  jacket  wrote  atop  of  me,  which  means  defuncted 
of  toggery  not  imprevious  to  water.  In  I  go.' 

In  accordance  with  this  design,  he  watched  his  oppor- 
tunity and  slipped  quietly  into  the  gay  mansion.  Helping 
himself  liberally  to  refreshments  left  in  the  hall,  he  looked 
in  upon  the  dancers. 

"  Who-o-ip  !"  shouted  Fydget  Fyxington,  forgetting 
himself  in  the  excitement  of  the  scene — "  Who-o-ip  !" 
added  he,  as  he  danced  forward  with  prodigious  vigour 
and  activity,  flourishing  the  eatables  with  which  his  hands 
were  crammed,  as  if  they  were  a  pair  of  cymbals — 
"  Whurro-o-o  !  plank  it  down — that's  your  sort ! — make 
yourselves  merry,  gals  and  boys — it's  all  accordin'  to  first 
principles — whoo-o-o-ya — whoop  ! — it  takes  us  !" 

Direful  was  the  screaming  at  this  formidable  apparition 
—the  fiddles  ceased — the  waltzers  dropped  their  panting 
burdens,  and  the  black  band  looked  pale  and  aghast. 

"  Who-o-o-p  !  go  ahead  ! — come  it  strong !"  continued 
Fydget.  • 

But  he  was  again  doomed  to  suffer  an  ejectment. 

"Hustle  him  out  I" 

"  Give  us  a  '  shinplaster'  then — them's  my  terms." 

It  would  not  do — he  was  compelled  to  retire  shinplas- 
terless  ;  but  it  rained  so  heavily  that,  nothing  daunted,  he 
marched  up  the  alley-way,  re-entered  the  house  through 
the  garden,  and  gliding  noiselessly  into  the  cellar,  turned 
a  large  barrel  over  which  he  found  there,  and  getting  into 
it,  went  fast  asleep  "  on  first  principles." 

The  company  had  departed — the  servants  were  as 
sembled  in  the  kitchen  preparatory  to  retiring  for  the 
night,  when  an  unearthly  noise  proceeding  from  the  bar- 
rel aforesaid  struck  upon  their  astonished  ears.  It  was 
Fydget  snoring,  and  his  hearers,  screaming,  fled. 

Rallying,  however,  at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  they  pro- 


220  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

cured  the  aid  of  Mr.  Lynx,  who  watched  over  the  noc 
lurnal  destinies  of  an  unfinished  building  in  the  vicinity, 
and  who,  having  frequently  boasted  of  his  valour,  felt  it 
to  be  a  point  of  honour  to  act  bravely  on  this  occasion. 
The  sounds  continued,  and  the  "  investigating  commit- 
tee," with  Mr.  Lynx  as  chairman,  advanced  slowly  and 
with  many  pauses. 

Lynx  at  last  hurriedly  thrust  his  club  into  the  barrel, 
and  started  back  to  wait  the  result  of  the  experiment. 
"  Ouch  !"  ejaculated  a  voice  from  the  interior,  the  word 
being  one  not  to  be  found  in  the  dictionaries,  but  which, 
in  common  parlance,  means  that  a  sensation  too  acute  to 
be  agreeable  has  been  excited. 

"  Hey  ! — hello ! — come  out  of  that,"  said  Lynx,  as 
soon  as  his  nerves  had  recovered  tranquillity.  "  You  are 
in  a  bad  box  whoever  you  are." 

"  Augh  1"  was  the  response,  "  no,  I  ain't — I'm  in  it 
.barrel." 

"  No  matter,"  added  Lynx  authoritatively;  "getting 
into  another  man's  barrel  unbeknownst  to  him  in  the 
night-time,  is  burglary." 

"  That,"  said  Fydget,  putting  out  his  head  like  a  ter- 
rapin, at  which  the  women  shrieked  and  retreated,  and 
Lynx  made  a  demonstration  with  his  club—"  that's 
because  you  ain't  up  to  first  principles — keep  your  stick 
out  of  my  ribs — I've  a  plan  so  there  won't  be  no  bur- 
glary, which  is  this — no  man  have  no  more  than  he  can 
use,  and  all  other  men  mind  their  own  business.  Then, 
this  'ere  barrel  would  be  mine  while  I'm  in  it,  and  you'd 
be  asleep — that's  the  idea." 

"  It's  a  logo-fogie  !"  exclaimed  Lynx  with  horror— 
"  a  right  down  logo-fogie  !" 

"  Ah  !"  screamed  the  servants — "  a  logo-fogie  ! — how 
lid  it  get  out  ? — will  it  bite  ? — can't  you  get  a  gun  ?" 


FYDGET   FYXINGTON.  221 

•*  Don't  be  fools — a  logo-fogie  is  a  sort  of  a  man  that 
don't  think  as  I  do — wicked  critters  all  such  sort  of  peo- 
ple are,"  said -Lynx.  "  My  lad,  I'm  pretty  clear  you're 
a  logo-fogie — you  talk  as  if  your  respect  for  me  and 
other  venerable  institutions  was  tantamount  to  very  little. 
You're  a  leveller  I  see,  and  wouldn't  mind  knocking  me 
down  flat  as  a  pancake,  if  so  be  you  could  run  away  and 
get  out  of  this  scrape — you're  a  'grarium,  and  would  cut 
across  the  lot  like  a  streak  of  lightning  if  you  had  a 
chance." 

"  Mr.  Lynx,"  said  the  lady  of  the  house  from  the  head 
of  the  stairs, — she  had  heard  from  one  of  the  affrighted 
maids  that  a  "  logo-fogie"  had  been  "  captivated,"  and 
that  it  could  talk  "just  like  a  human" — "Mr.  Lynx, 
don't  have  any  thing  to  say  to  him.  Take  him  out,  and 
hand  him  over  to  the  police.  I'll  see  that  you  are  recom- 
pensed for  your  trouble." 

"  Come  out,  then — you're  a  bad  chap — you  wouldn't 
mind  voting  against  our  side  at  the  next  election." 

"  We  don't  want  elections,  I  tell  you,"  said  Fydgel 
coolly,  as  he  walked  up  stairs — "  I've  a  plan  for  doing 
without  elections,  and  police-officers,  and  laws — every 
man  mind  his  own  business,  and  support  me  while  I  over- 
see him.  I  can  fix  it." 

Having  now  arrived  at  the  street,  Mr.  Lynx  held  him 
by  the  collar,  and  looked  about  for  a  representative  of  jus- 
tice to  relieve  him  of  his  prize. 

"  Though  I  feel  as  if  I  was  your  pa,  yet  you  must  be 
tried  for  snoozling  in  a  barrel.  Besides,  you've  no  respect 
for  functionaries,  and  you  sort  of  want  to  cut  a  piece  out 
of  the  common  veal  by  your  logo-fogieism  in  wishing  to 
'bolish  laws,  and  policers,  and  watchmen,  when  my 
brother's  one,  and  helps  to  govern  the  nation  when  the 


222  CHARCOAL    SKETCHES. 

President,  the  Mayor,  and  the  rest  of  the  day-watch  has 
turned  in,  or  are  at  a  tea-party.  You'll  get  into  prison." 

"  We  don't  want  prisons.** 

"  Yes  we  do  though — what's  to  become  of  functiona- 
ries if  there  ain't  any  prisons  ?" 

This  was  rather  a  puzzling  question,  Fyxington 
paused,  and  finally  said : 

"  Why,  I've  a  plan." 

"  What  is  it,  then — is  it  logo-fogie  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  upsets  existing  institutions,"  roared  Pyxing 
ton,  tripping  up  Mr.  Lynx,  and  making  his  escape — the 
only  one  of  his  plans  that  ever  answered  the  purpose. 


WIIH  ILLUSmmoyS  BT  PARLEY.       _ ^ 
Elegant  Illuminated  Covert.  Pubtshed  Uv 

T.B.PETERSON  &  BROTHERS. 

MAJOR   JONES'  COURTSHIP. 
DRAMA   IN  POKERVILLE. 

CHARCOAL  SKETCHES.  DEER  STALKERS. 
MISFORTUNES  OF  PETER  FA&ER. 
MAJOR  JONES' SKETCHES  OF  TRAVEL. 
YANKEE  AMONGST  THE  MERMAIDS. 
STREAKS  OF  SQUATTER   LIFE. 
QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 
SIMON  SUGGS. 

WESTERN  SCENES  OR  LIFE  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 
YANKEE  YARNS  AND  YANKEE  LETTERS. 
MYSTERIES  OF  THE  BACKWOODS. 
BIG  BEAR  OF  ARKANSAS. 
ADVENTURES  OF  PERCIYAL  MAYBERRY. 
THE  QUORNDON  HOUNDS. 
MY  SHOOTING  BOX. 

MAJOR  JONES'  CHRONICLES  OF  PINEVILLE. 
STRAY  SUBJECTS  ARRESTED  AND  BOUND. OVER. 
ADVENTURES  OF  FUDGE  FUMBLE 
ADVENTURES  OF  CAPTAIN  FARRAGO. 
PICKINGS  FROM  THE  PICAYUNE. 
MAJOR  O'RECAN'S  ADVENTURES. 
PETER   PLODDY.  FOLLOWING  THE  DRUM. 
WIDOW  RUGBY'S  HUSBAND. 
SOL.  SMITH'S  THEATRICAL  APPRENTICESHIP. 
SOL.  SMITH'S  THEATRICAL  JOURNEY  WORK. 
POLLY  PEABLOSSOM'S    WEDDING. 

WARWICK   WOODLANDS.  rr  A  o  A 

LOUISIANA  SWAMP  DOCTOR!  V 
AUNT  PATTY'S  SCRAP  BOOK. 

NEW    ORLEANS    SKETCH    BOOK. 


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